ffitbrte 


5  &\  f 


NEW    IRELAND 


BY 

A.  M.  SULLIVAN, 


THIRD     EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 

PETER  F.  COLLIER,  PUBLISHER, 
38   PARK   PLACE. 

1878. 


COPYRIGHT, 

1877. 
Br  PKTEB  P.  COLLIER. 


New  Tork  :  J.  J.  Little  A  Co.,  Frtntan, 
10  to  SO  Aitor  Place. 


PREFATORY. 


considerably  less  than  half  a  century,  changes, 
social  and  political,  accomplishing  a  veritable  revolution, 
have  taken  place  in  Ireland.  In  the  following  pages  I 
have  undertaken,  not  so  much  to  picture  them  in  all  their 
phases,  or  to  write  a  formal  history  of  the  period,  as 
to  supply,  chiefly  from  personal  observation,  a  series  of 
sketches  or  narratives  which  may  perhaps  assist  in  the 
readier  and  more  correct  appreciation  of  visible  results. 

I  have,  indeed,  been  mindful  of  the  fact  that  this  work 
would  be  published,  and,  if  I  may  say  it,  be  read,  in 
England;  yet  I  decided  not  to  write  it  either  "for"  or 
"at"  the  English  people,  but  to  tell  my  story  in  my  own 
way,  and  from  my  own  point  of  view.  I  do  not  pretend 
to  be  dispassionate.  I  have  borne — as  will  be  seen  in  what 
follows — an  active  part  in  some  of  the  stormiest  scenes  of 
Irish  public  life  for  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  century ;  and 
I  wish  to  hold  my  place  as  a  man  of  decided  views  and 
strong  convictions.  I  trust,  however,  it  may  be  found 
that  I  have  taken  thought  of  the  responsibilities  which 
devolve  upon  one  who  attempts  a  contribution,  no  matter 
how  humble,  to  the  history  of  his  time,  not  to  the  con- 
trovfersies  of  politics  or  polemics. 

I  avow,  perhaps,  too  bold  an  ambition  in  expressing  the 

3 

2060839 


4  PREFATORY. 

hope  that  these  chapters  may  assist  in  promoting  that 
better  understanding  and  kindlier  feeling  between  the  New 
England  and  the  New  Ireland  which  patriot  hearts  on 
either  shore  must  assuredly  desire.  No  lighter  considera- 
tion, no  hope  less  high,  has  led  me  to  undertake  them. 

ALEXANDER  M.  SULLIVAN. 
LONDON,  September  25,  1877. 


NOTE  TO  THE  NEW  YORK  EDITION. 


THIS  edition  has  an  indispensable  something,  especially 
prepared  for  it,  and  not  to  be  found  in  any  other,  namely 
— a  carefully  prepared  and  Complete  Table  of  Contents. 
We  are  sure  the  reader  will  not  fail  to  appreciate  such 
an  addition  to  a  volume,  in  every  other  respect  so  admir- 
able. 

NETF  YORK,  December,  1877. 


OOKTEKTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — LOOKING  BACK 7 

n. — "  THE  SCHOOLMASTEB  ABROAD  " 15 

III.— O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL 80 

IV. — THE  RIBBON  CONFEDEBACY 49 

V. — FATHEK  MATHEW 66 

VI. — "THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN" 81 

VII. — "  YOUNG  IRELAND  " 95 

VIII.—"  FORTY-EIGHT  " 113 

IX.— AFTER-SCENES 136 

X.— THE  CRIMSON  STAIN 140 

XI.— "  LOCHABER  NO  MORE  1  " 157 

XII.— THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT 173 

XIII.— THE  TENANT  LEAGUE 191 

XIV.— "THE  BRASS  BAND" 308 

XV.— THE  SUICIDE  BANKER 334 

XVI.— THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION 341 

XVII.— THE  PHOJNIX  CONSPIRACY 358 

XVIIL— PAPAL  IRELAND 370 

XIX.— THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH 387 

XX.— THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT 305 

XXL— A  TROUBLED  TIME  335 

XXII.— THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE 838 

XXIII.— INSURRECTION  ! 855 

XXIV.— THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL 873 

XXV.— " DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO!" 893 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTSB  PACK 

XXVI.— DISESTABLISHMENT 411 

XXVIL— LONQFOBD 429 

XXVIII. — "HOME  RULE" 444 

XXIX.— THE  KEBBT  ELECTION ." 460 

XXX. — BALLYCOHEY 475 

XXXI.— THE  DISESTABLISHED  CHUBCH 489 

XXXII.  — IBELAND  AT  WESTMINBTEB 499 

XXXIIL— Loss  AND  GAIN...  510 


NEW    IRELAND. 


CHAPTER   L 

LOOKING  BACK. 

THE  years  that  reach  from  the  fifth  to  the  eighth  decade 
of  this  century  cover  an  eventful  time  in  general  history. 
They  have  brought  great  changes  on  every  hand  for  nations 
and  peoples.  Even  where  no  clash  of  arms  has  sounded, 
other  forces  have  effected  revolutions ;  other  causes  have  been 
at  work  to  destroy  the  Old  and  set  up  the  New.  Ancient 
landmarks  have  been  overthrown;  long-treasured  customs, 
habits,  and  traditions  swept  away ;  and  in  instances  not  a 
few  the  whole  face  of  society  has  been  altered,  for  better  or 
for  worse.  In  Ireland  this  period  has  witnessed  some  start- 
ling transformations.  It  may,  indeed,  be  said  that  the  Old 
Ireland — the  Ireland  of  forty  years  ago— can  now  be  seen  no 
more. 

Revisiting  recently  the  scenes  of  my  early  life,  I  realized 
more  vividly  than  ever  the  changes  which  thirty  years  had 
effected.  I  sailed  once  more  over  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay 
on  which  I  was,  so  to  say,  cradled ;  climbed  the  hills  and 
trod  the  rugged  defiles  of  Glengariffe  and  Beara,  by  paths 
and  passes  learned  in  childhood  and  remembered  still.  The 
material  scene  in  all  its  wild  beauty  and  savage  grandeur 
was  unchanged ;  but  it  was  plain  that  a  new  order  of  things 
had  arisen.  New  faces  were  around  me — new  manners,  habits, 

7 


8  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  social  usages.  The  Gaelic  salutations  were  few  ;  it  was 
in  the  English  tongue  that  "  A  fine  day,  sir,"  took  the  place 
of  "  God  save  you  "  in  the  Irish.  "  My  foot "  was  indeed 
"on  my  native  heath,"  yet  I  felt  in  a  sense  a  stranger.  Not 
there,  but  in  Boston  and  Milwaukee  and  San  Francisco,  could 
be  found  the  survivors  of  the  hardy  fishermen  and  simple 
mountaineers  among  whom  I  grew  to  boyhood.  Yet,  natural 
regrets  apart,  I  owned  that  all  the  change  was  not  disaster. 
Much  indeed  had  been  lost,  but  much  had  been  gained. 

Was  all  that  I  saw,  all  that  I  missed,  a  reflection  or  figure 
in  miniature  of  what  had  taken  place  throughout  the  island  ? 
Unquestionably  this  district  and  its  people  had  long  played 
a  typical  part,  so  to  speak,  in  the  vicissitudes  of  our  national 
life.  The  extreme  southwest  of  Ireland,  the  Atlantic  angle 
formed  by  West  Cork  and  Kerry,  long  has  had  a  peculiar 
interest  for  the  student  of  Irish  history,  social  and  political. 
Mr.  Froude  gives  it  unusual  prominence  as  the  scene  of  what 
he  considers  characteristic  incidents  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  In  the  last  formidable  struggle  of  the 
Gaelic  princes  for  native  sovereignty,  this  region  performed 
in  the  south  very  much  the  part  which  Donegal  played  in 
the  north  ;  the  three  men  under  whom  the  final  campaign 
of  1595-1599  was  fought  being  Hugh  O'Neill,  Prince  of 
Tyrone,  Hugh  O'Donnell,  Prince  of  Tyrconnell,  and  Donal 
O'Sullivan,  Chieftain  of  Beara. 

In  that  struggle  Spain  was  the  ally  of  the  Irish  Chiefs, 
and  the  proximity  of  the  Carbery  and  Beara  headlands  to 
the  Iberian  peninsula — the  facilities  offered  by  their  deep 
bays  and  ready  harbors  for  the  landing  of  expeditions,  en- 
voys, arms,  and  subsidies — gave  to  the  district  that  impor- 
tance which  it  retained  down  to  1796,  when  it  was  the  scene 
of  the  attempted  or  rather  intended  French  invasion  under 
Hoche.  Declared  forfeit  in  1607,  on  the  conclusion  of  the 
campaign  above  referred  to,  confiscated  again  in  1641,  and  a 
third  time  in  1691,  Beara  at  length  passed  totally  from  the 
O'Sullivans.  The  last  notable  member  of  the  disinherited 


LOOKING  BACK,  9 

family  *  entered  the  service  of  France  with  the  Irish  army 
under  Sarsfield,  on  the  capitulation  of  Limerick. 

The  clansmen  scowled  on  the  new  landlords,  who,  indeed, 
for  very  long  after  never  ventured  upon  even  a  visit  to  the 
place.  From  1700  to  1770,  as  Mr.  Froude  has  very  graphic- 
ally described,  Bantry  and  the  surrounding  bays  were  the 
great  outlets  through  which,  in  defiance  of  the  utmost  power 
and  vigilance  of  the  Government,  shiploads  of  recruits  for 
the  Irish  Brigade  (called  "  wild  geese  "  in  the  bills  of  lading) 
and  cargoes  of  wool  (at  the  time  forbidden  to  be  exported) 
were  dispatched  to  France,  Spain,  and  the  Low  Countries. 

In  the  smuggling  or  exportation  of  contraband  fleeces,  and 
importation  of  silk,  brandy,  and  tobacco,  the  population 
pushed  a  lucrative  and  exciting  trade  down  very  nearly  to 
the  close  of  the  last  century,  when  it  may  be  said  to  have 
totally  disappeared.  Henceforward  they  devoted  themselves 
exclusively  and  energetically  to  a  combination  of  fishing  and 
petty  agriculture  ;  their  characters,  manners,  habits,  and  tra- 
ditions, their  virtues  and  their  vices,  more  or  less  impressed 
by  the  antecedent  history  which  I  have  endeavored  thus 
briefly  to  sketch. 

It  is  among  this  class,  the  rural  population,  that  the  most 
striking  changes  have  been  wrought  all  over  Ireland  within 
the  present  generation.  The  Irish  peasant  of  forty  years  ago 
— his  home,  his  habits,  manners,  dress,  his  wit  and  humor, 
his  tender  feeling,  his  angry  passions,  his  inveterate  preju- 
dices— all  these  have  been  portrayed  with  more  or  less  of  ex- 
aggeration a  hundred  times.  Caricature  has  done  its  worst 
with  the  subject ;  but  justice  has  sometimes  touched  the  theme. 
One  of  the  changes  most  pleasing  in  our  time  is  the  fact  that 
in  England  the  clumsy  "  stage  Irishman"  of  former  days  is 
no  longer  rapturously  declared  to  be  the  very  acme  of  truth- 
ful delineation.  The  Irish  are  keenly  sensitive^to  ridicule  or 

*  His  sister  was  wife  of  Colonel  MacMahon,  of  the  same  service,  di- 
rect ancestor  of  Marshal  Patrick  MacMahon,  Duke  of  Magenta,  Presi- 
dent of  the  French  Republic. 
1* 


10  NEW  IRELAND. 

derision  ;  and  to  see  the  national  character  travestied  in  mis- 
erable novel  or  brutal  farce — the  Irish  peasant  pictured  as  a 
compound  of  idiot  and  buffoon — for  the  merriment  of  the 
master  race,  was  an  exasperation  more  fruitful  of  hatred  be- 
tween the  peoples  than  the  fiercest  invective  of  those  "agita- 
tors "  whom  it  has  been  the  fashion  to  credit  with  the  exclu- 
sive manufacture  of  Irish  sedition. 

Banim  and  Griffin,  Mrs.  Hall  and  Carleton,  have  left  pic- 
tures of  Irish  life  and  character  which  on  the  whole  cannot  be 
surpassed  for  fidelity  and  effectiveness.  The  only  class  which 
none  of  them  have  photographed  for  us  are  the  cottier  fisher- 
men communities  that  thirty  years  ago  crowded  the  coasts  of 
Connaught  and  Munster.  These  have  almost  entirely  van- 
ished. The  Irish  Fishery  Commissioners  year  by  year  be- 
wail their  disappearance ;  the  royal  and  mercantile  navy  miss 
the  hardy  and  fearless  seamen  so  easily  picked  up  along  these 
harbors,  trained  from  childhood  to  combat  wave  and  wind. 
Deep-sea  fishing  properly  so  called  was  hardly  attempted,  the 
boats  and  gear  to  be  found  around  the  western  coast  being 
quite  inadequate  for  the  purpose.  Kinsale  and  Cape  Clear 
boasted  some  fine  "  hookers  "  engaged  in  the  ling  and  cod 
fishery  ;  but  six-oared  herring-seine  boats  were  the  craft  most 
generally  in  use.  The  crews  tilled  small  farms  or  rocky 
patches  of  potato-ground  when  the  moonlight  was  too  bright 
for  fishing  ;  and  on  the  potatoes  thus  raised,  and  a  reserve  of 
the  fish  for  home  use,  they  altogether  depended  for  subsist- 
ence. Between  Cape  Clear  and  Dursey  Island  a  little  pilot- 
ing was  sometimes  done  ;  albeit  very  little  knowledge  of  the 
compass  or  quadrant  existed  among  the  "pilots."  One  of 
them  told  me  how  nearly  he  missed  a  "  splendid  job  " — five 
pounds'  worth — because  he  could  not  "box  the  compass" 
for  the  captain  of  a  West  Indiaman  homeward  bound. 
"  Not  box  the  compass  ! "  exclaimed  the  captain.  "  You  a 
pilot  ! " 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  mean,  sir,  I  cannot  do  it  in  English.  You, 
see,  sir,  we  all  speak  Irish  in  our  village  on  shore,  barrin'  a 


LOOKING  SACK.  11 

little  English  that  me  and  the  boys  picks  up,  ye  see,  from 
being  after  the  ships." 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  after  a  pause,  "let  me  hear  you 
do  it  in  Irish."  He,  correctly  enough,  reflected  that  in  al- 
most any  language  one  could  detect  whether  the  words 
would  follow  with  such  similarity  of  sound  as  north,  north- 
and-by-east,  north-north-east,  north-east-by-north,  and  so 
on.  But  old  Jack  Downing  was  just  as  sharp  as  the  captain 
was  keen.  Often  and  often  at  Mrs.  Crowley's  public-house 
on  shore  he  had  heard  sailors  "  box  the  compass ; "  and 
though  he  could  not  attempt  the  task,  he  knew  how  it 
sounded  to  the  ear. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  sir  ;  I'll  do  it  for  you  in  Irish."  And 
he  forthwith  began  in  homely  Gaelic  to  recite,  "My  grand- 
father— my  grandmother — my  grandfather's  grandmother — 
my  grandmother's  grandfather — my  great-great-grandfather 
_my » 

"  Stop,  stop,"  shouted  the  captain,  perfectly  convinced. 
"  I  see,  my  poor  fellow,  I  had  wronged  you  :  take  charge 
of  the  ship." 

Few  sights  could  be  more  picturesque  than  the  ceremony 
by  which,  in  our  bay,  the  fishing-season  was  formally 
opened.  Selecting  an  auspicious  day,  unusually  calm  and 
fine,  the  boats,  from  every  creek  and  inlet  for  miles  around, 
rendezvoused  at  a  given  point,  and  then,  in  solemn  proces- 
sion, rowed  out  to  sea,  the  leading  boat  carrying  the  priest 
of  the  district.  Arrived  at  the  distant  fishing-ground,  the 
clergyman  vested  himself,  an  altar  was  improvised  on  the 
stern-sheets,  the  attendant  fleet  drew  around,  and  every  head 
was  bared  and  bowed  while  the  mass  was  said.  I  have  seen 
this  "  mass  on  the  ocean"  when  not  a  breeze  stirred,  and  the 
tinkle  of  the  little  bell  or  the  murmur  of  the  priest's  voice 
was  the  only  sound  that  reached  the  ear,  the  blue  hills  of 
Bantry  faint  on  the  horizon  behind  us,  and  nothing  nearer 
beyond  than  the  American  shore  ! 

Where  are  all  these  now  ?    The  "mass  on  the  ocean"  is  a 


12  NEW  IRELAND. 

thing  of  the  past,  -heard  of  and  seen  no  more  ;  one  of  the  old 
customs  gone  apparently  forever.  The  fishermen, — the  fine 
big-framed  fellows,  of  tarry  hands  and  storm-stained  faces  ? 
The  workhouse  or  the  grave  holds  all  who  are  not  dockside 
men  on  the  Thames  or  the  Mersey,  on  the  Hudson  or  the 
Mississippi.  The  boats  ?  I  saw  nearly  all  that  remains  of 
them  when  I  last  visited  the  little  cove  that  in  my  early  days 
scarce  sufficed  to  hold  the  fleet, — at  low  water,  skeleton  ribs 
protruding  here  and  there  from  the  sand,  or  shattered  hulks 
helplessly  moldering  under  the  trees  that  drooped  into  the 
tide  when  at  the  full. 

Off  the  western  coast  of  Ireland  are  several  islands  the  in- 
habitants of  which,  previous  to  the  present  generation,  never 
quitted,  never  cared  to  quit,  their  prison  homes.  The  main- 
land— Ireland — was  to  them  a  vast  continent,  where  as- 
tounding marvels  were,  it  was  said,  to  be  seen.  Torry 
Island  ("Innis-Torragh" — Isle  of  Towers),  off  Donegal,  re- 
tains at  the  present  day,  to  a  large  degree,  this  isolation.  It 
is  still  governed  by  a  fisherman  king,  elected  by  the  commu- 
nity of  three  or  four  hundred  souls.  Quite  recently,  I  be- 
lieve, a  police  barrack,  as  well  as  a  coast-guard  station,  has 
been  placed  there  ;  but  the  "  king"  is,  after  all,  the  author- 
ity most  referred  to.  Strange  to  say,  the  present  potentate 
of  Torry  is  a  Protestant,  and  the  only  professor  of  that  creed 
(outside  the  police  barrack  and  the  coast-guard  lodge)  on 
the  island. 

Technically,  or  theoretically,  Torry  belonged  to  some  bar- 
ony on  the  neighboring  mainland;  but  until  a  couple  of 
years  ago  no  one  dreamed  of  asserting  this  legal  fact  by  call- 
ing on  the  Torrymen  to  pay  baronial  cess  for  making  roads 
in  the  country  on  the  other  side  of  "the  sound."  They 
made  their  own  roads,  they  used  none  other,  and  for  none 
other  would  they  pay.  So  spake  the  "king."  The  cess  col- 
lector proceeded  to  gather  a  flotilla  for  an  invasion,  with 
purpose  as  resolute  as  that  of  the  Norman  William  assem- 
bling his  galleys  in  the  roadstead  of  St.  Valery.  Happily  the 


LOOKING  BACK  13 

authorities,  anxious  to  avoid  a  conflict  with  a  community 
so  peculiar  and  so  largely  recommended  to  kindly  sympa- 
thies, devised  some  compromise  which  averted  hostilities. 

Serious  crime  was,  and  I  believe  is,  almost  unknown  among 
these  islanders.  In  Torry  the  first  illegitimate  birth  known 
within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  occurred  about 
twenty  years  ago,  and  caused  much  commotion  and  dismay. 
A  Torry  girl  had  been  to  farm-service  on  the  mainland,  and 
returned  home  to  import  the  first  moral  stain  of  such  a  nature 
ever  affixed  on  the  character  of  her  native  island.  The  whole 
community  met,  under  the  presidency  of  the  "king,"  and 
with  one  voice  decreed  banishment  to  Ireland  for  the  hapless 
offender.  When  strong  enough  to  bear  removal,  she  and  the 
infant  were  rowed  across  the  sound.  The  neighbors  gave  her 
gifts  and  presents  to  help  her  in  the  future  ;  but  she  was  to 
return  to  Torry  no  more. 

The  present  Bishop  of  Kerry,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Moriarty, 
told  me  he  was  making  a  visitation  of  his  diocese,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Blasket  Islands,  in  1856.  The  opportunity 
was  seized  by  a  young  islander,  who  was  desirous  of  getting 
married,  to  cross  to  the  mainland  and  obtain  a  dispensation 
from  his  lordship,  rendered  necessary  by  some  circumstance 
in  the  case.  He  had  never  crossed  before,  and  he  was  all 
wonderment  at  what  he  saw.  The  bishop  thought  it  right 
to  assure  himself  as  to  the  knowledge  on  the  islander's  part 
of,  at  all  events,  the  cardinal  points  of  the  Christian  doc- 
trine. 

"  How  many  gods  are  there,  my  good  boy  ?  "  his  lordship 
asked,  in  Irish. 

"Well,  great  and  holy  priest,"  replied  the  islander,  "in 
Blasketmore  we  have  but  one  ;  but  'tis  very  likely  there  may 
be  more  than  that  in  this  great  big  world  here."  Father 
Casey  was  directed  to  give  the  Blasketmore  man  a  few  days' 
catechetical  instruction,  and  then  admit  him  to  the  matri- 
monial bond. 

This  class — the  Atlantic  coast  and  island  men,  from  Cape 


14  NEW  IRELAND. 

Clear  to  Malin  Head — suffered  severely,  were  almost  swept 
away,  by  the  famine  of  1847  ;  a  brave  and  hardy  race,  fa- 
vorably distinguished  in  many  respects  from  the  peasantry 
of  the  midland  counties.  Their  isolation  saved  them  from 
the  conflicts  that  disorganized  the  agrarian  system  in  other 
portions  of  the  kingdom.  .Their  hard  lot,  their  humble 
life,  offered  little  temptation  to  envy  or  cupidity.  The 
ocean  was  their  principal  "farm,"  and  on  this  no  landlord 
could  raise  a  rent.  The  war  of  class  and  race  and  creed,  that 
betimes  raged  elsewhere  in  Ireland,  never  touched  these  com- 
munities. Every  man  was  their  neighbor,  and  every  stranger 
was  a  friend.  Even  at  the  present  day,  though  greatly  weak- 
ened by  the  ordeal  of  the  past  thirty  years,  they  present  an 
interesting  study,  as  perhaps  the  truest  relics  we  now  possess 
of  the  Celtic  peasantry  in  the  Ireland  of  old  times. 

Looking  back  upon  those  scenes,  recalling  such  memories, 
I  am  not  Stoic  enough  to  contemplate  unmoved  the  picture 
presented  to  my  view.  Yet  it  is  needful  to  remember  that  in 
these  retrospects  justice  is  not  always  done  to  the  present ;  a 
true  value  is  rarely  placed  on  the  advance  which,  amidst 
combat  and  striving  that  often  appear  fruitless,  and  suffering 
and  sacrifice  that  seem  beyond  compensation,  is  nevertheless 
being  well  established  throughout  the  world,  all  along  the 
line  of  civilization. 


CHAPTER    IL 

"THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABBOAD." 

FIFTY  years  ago  the  schoolmaster  was  not  abroad  in  Ire- 
land. Indeed,  in  the  previous  century  he  had  better  not 
have  been,  if  he  wished  to  avoid  conviction  for  felony  under 
the  8th  of  Anne,  cap.  iii.  sec.  16.  In  most  of  the  rural 
parishes  of  Ireland  not  half  a  century  ago,  the  man  who 
could  read  a  newspaper  or  write  a  letter  was  a  distinguished 
individual,  a  useful  and  important  functionary.  He  was  the 
philosopher  of  the  district.  He  wrote  the  letters  for  all  the 
parish,  and  he  read  the  replies  for  the  neighbors  who  re- 
ceived them.  After  mass  on  Sunday,  if  haply  the  parish 
priest  was  rich  enough  to  take  a  newspaper,  the  same  public 
benefactor  read  from  Father  Tom's  last-but-one  weekly  or 
bi-weekly  broadsheet  the  news  of  what  was  going  on  in  the 
world.  If  the  weather  was  fine,  seated  on  the  green  sodded 
fence, — on  rainy  days  perched  on  the  anvil  in  the  neighbor- 
ing smithy, — he  gave  forth  to  the  eager  and  wondering 
crowd  the  latest  speech  of  O'Connell  or  Sheil,  Peel  or  Stan- 
ley. Occasionally  the  parochial  letter-writer  and  public 
reader  was,  as  in  Italy  even  at  the  present  day,  a  sort  of  pro- 
fessional, charging  a  fee  for  his  services.  Some  of  these 
practitioners  had  set  forms  for  letters  of  a  certain  classifica- 
tion, whence  perhaps  arose  the  idea  of  the  "  Complete  Let- 
ter-Writer "  as  a  publication.  * 

*  One  of  my  colleagues  in  the  Nation  office  showed  me  not  long 
since  a  letter  which  came  from  a  youthful  correspondent  in  Clare, 
who  wanted  "  Mr.  Editor"  to  recommend  to  him  "A  Complete  Letter- 
Writer  on  Love  or  Business  ;"  adding,  by  way  of  postscript,  "  N.  B. 
Love  preferred  at  present." 

15 


16  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  these  performances  lengthy  words,  or  those  strange  and 
new  in  sound,  were  highly  valued.  A  word  of  four  syllables 
was  supposed  to  be  twice  as  powerful  as  one  of  two.  A 
parochial  letter- writer  in  Bearhaven  who  used  to  boast  that 
he  had  "broken" — i.e.,  procured  the  dismissal  of— three 
gangers  and  removed  two  sub-inspectors  was  once  retained 
to  indite  a  complaint  against  a  policeman.  He  read  out  to 
his  awestruck  clients  as  the  finish  of  a  sentence,  "he  being 
supereminently  obnoxious  to  the  people."  "Do  you  hear 
that  ? "  said  he,  laying  down  the  pen  for  a  moment,  and 
looking  around  with  an  air  of  pride  and  triumph  :  "  super- 
eminently! That  one  word  alone  is  enough  to  take  the 
jacket  off  him  !  " 

That  a  few  of  these  learned  letter- writers  survive  here  and 
there  in  Ireland  I  have  had  evidence  from  time  to  time  in 
the  course  of  my  editorial  experiences  in  Dublin.  Out  of 
quite  a  store  of  such  curiosities  I  quote  two  communications 
sent  for  publication  to  one  of  my  journals.  The  first  deals 
with  "  Sunday-closing  : " 

"  SiB, — It  is  an  indubitable  fact,  absolutely  impervious  to  the  rati- 
ocination of  any  syllogistic  political  economist,  that  the  solicitude  of 
British  representatives  for  the  auriferous  progress  of  the  excise  divests 
them  of  every  sentiment  of  philanthropy,  of  all  consideration  for  tho 
social  misery,  the  moral  derogation,  and  the  domestic  indigence  of  the 
infatuated  frequenters  of  public-houses  on  Sundays.  But  to  deviate 
from  general  principles  to  facts  in  particular,  I  think  that  a  moiety  of 
Irish  publicans  seem  to  have  but  little  scrupulous  regard  to  the  dic- 
tates of  conscience  in  deriving  benefits  from  the  ruination  of  their 
customers.  That  the  publican's  till  is  the  receptacle  of  a  large 
amount  of  the  wealth  of  the  country  is  clearly  demonstrated  by  tho 
fact  of  their  wives  being  a  vivid  panorama  of  bon  ton,  and  actually 
living  to  all  appearances  in  perpetual  anticipation  of  the  various  vicis- 
situdes of  fashion.  Indeed  some  alcoholic  venders  rather  disingenu- 
ously carry  on  a  magnetic  system  of  lucrative  appropriation  through 
the  medium  of  an  exquisite  barmaid,  whose  commercial  smile  of  in- 
expressible blandiloquence  is  invariably  calculated  to  stimulate  the 
extravagant  propensities  of  the  young  and  industrious  artisan. — Re- 
spectfully yours,  SATURN." 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  17 

Of  another,  from  the  same  correspondent,  devoted  to  the 
vexed  question  of  "  Connemara  Proselytism,"  I  quote  the 
opening  portion  : 

"  CONG,  April  12,  1874. 

"  SIR, — I  sincerely  trust  I  will  not  be  considered  an  animated  defi- 
nition of  the  mediocral  abilities  existing  between  the  sublime  and  the 
ridiculous  when  I  say  that  a  Catholic  Irishman  whose  solicitude  for 
the  annihilation  of  the  various  considerations  appertaining  to  sectarian 
animosities  may  have  induced  him  to  entertain  a  profound  repugnance 
to  all  kinds  of  religious  discussions,  can  have  no  earthly  objection  to 
class  amongst  the  most  ostensible  of  Ireland's  grievances  the  odious 
prevalence  in  the  isolated  districts  of  an  accumulation  of  stipendiary 
bible-readers,  whose  terrestrial  ideas  of  the  sanctimonious  are  ortho- 
doxly  proved  to  be  by  no  means  diametrical  to  the  dictates  of  a  pecu- 
niary inspiration  by  their  indefatigable  efforts  to  propagate  the  grand 
tenet  that  the  celestial  felicity  of  a  defunct  Papist  can  only  be  achieved 
through  the  medium  of  sundry  scriptural  quotations,  and  the  quondam 
system  of  immeasurable  doses  of  infallible  broth.  Having  fortuitously 
encountered  one  of  these  sublunary  gentlemen,  I,  being  unable  to  sur- 
mount the  difficulties  of  an  analytical  excavation  of  the  Scriptures, 
felt  myself  under  the  sternly  imperative  necessity  of  having  recourse 
to  a  perfunctory  subterfuge  that  precipitated  his  biblical  interpolations 
into  a  chaotic  state  of  chimerical  amalgamation." 

These  erudite  contributions  were,  alas !  not  given  to  the 
public  eye ;  but  my  colleague,  who  withheld  them  from  print, 
was  careful  to  hand  them  to  me  for  a  place  in  my  portfolio 
of  literary  treasures. 

It  was  illiteracy,  not  ignorance  in  a  degrading  sense,  that 
prevailed  forty  years  ago  in  Ireland.  The  Irish  peasant 
was  naturally  intelligent,  was  not  deficient  in  knowledge  of 
things  necessary  for  his  avocations,  and  above  all  he  was,  in 
a  simple  rustic  way,  courteous  and  polite.  The  great  butt 
of  taunt  and  sarcasm  throughout  the  parish  was  an  "  ignora- 
mus,"— one  who  was  clumsy,  ill-mannered,  or  stupid.*  ~~ 

*  One  of  the  changes  most  noticeable  in  the  Irish  peasant  who  has 
been  to  America  and  has  returned  home,  is  a  disregard  of  and  con- 
tempt for  little  courtesies  that  he  has  come  to  believe  were  servilities. 
In  a  land  of  liberty  and  republican  equality  he  learned  to  reflect  with 


18  NEW  IRELAND. 

It  was  a  calamity,  the  evil  effects  of  which  will  long  out- 
live even  the  best  efforts  to  retrieve  them,  that  at  the  period 
when  in  other  countries,  and  especially  in  England  and  Scot- 
land, popular  education  was  being  developed  and  extended 
into  a  public  system,  in  Ireland  the  legislature  of  the  day 
was  passing  statute  after  statute  to  prohibit  and  punish 
any  acceptable  education  whatsoever — university,  intermedi- 
ate, or  primary — for  nine-tenths  of  the  population.  That  is 
to  say,  the  bulk  of  the  population  being  Catholic,  penal  laws 
against  Catholic  schools — laws  which  made  it  felony  for  a 
Catholic  to  act  as  teacher,  usher,  or  monitor,  and  civil  death 
for  a  Catholic  child  to  be  taught  by  any  such  masters — were 
virtually  a  prohibition  of  education  to  the  mass  of  the  people. 
No  useful  purpose  can  be  served  by  a  dismal  parade  in  these 
pages  of  the  enactments  that  throughout  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  last  century  effected  that  dreadful  proscription.  Statute 
after  statute,  penalty  after  penalty,  was  rained  upon  the 
people. 

"  Still  crouching  'neath  the  sheltering  hedge,  or  stretched  on  moun- 
tain fern, 
The  teacher  and  his  pupils  met,  feloniously,  to  learn  1 " 

The  man  who  thoughtlessly,  or  unaware  of  the  facts, 
points  blame  or  scorn  at  the  Irish  for  their  "  ignorance  " 
little  knows  what  he  is  about.  In  whatever  else  they  may  be 
amenable  to  reproach  or  censure,  in  the  matter  of  education 
the  Irish  are  not  culprits  but  victims. 

shame  how  he  touched  his  hat  to  a  social  superior  at  home.  'Twas  a 
slavish  custom,  he  thinks,  and  he  throws  it  off,  assuming  instead  what 
he  means  to  be  an  assertive  independence  and  equality,  that  too  often 
is  merely  rudeness.  No  doubt  in  Ireland  there  was  to  be  seen  down- 
right and  painful  servility  ;  cringing,  cowering  slaves  standing  on  the 
roadside  with  bared  heads,  in  falling  rain  or  sleet,  while  some  squireen 
lashed  them  with  his  tongue.  But  between  this  and  the  genuine  po- 
liteness of  the  Irish  peasant  of  the  better  type  the  difference  was  wide 
and  plain. 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  19 

As  early  as  1783  the  legislature  commenced  repealing  the 
severest  of  these  enactments  against  Catholic  teaching  in 
Ireland ;  by  1830  they  had  nearly  all  been  swept  away ;  and 
in  the  year  following,  the  late  Lord  Derby,  at  that  time  Mr. 
Stanley,  Irish  Chief  Secretary,  proposed  and  established  the 
present  State-school  system.  By  this  a  Government  board 
of  commissioners  was  established  in  Dublin  to  superintend 
and  administer  primary  education  throughout  Ireland.  No 
Government  schools  were  set  up  or  newly  established ;  but 
local  patrons  or  managers  of  primary  schools  were  invited 
to  attach  themselves  to  the  Board  and  obtain  a  yearly  grant 
of  funds  by  conforming  to  the  rules  of  the  new  system.  To 
schools  so  placed  under  or  in  connection  with  their  authority 
the  commissioners  granted  school  requisites  at  reduced  price, 
and  a  contribution  toward  the  teachers'  salaries.  On  the 
other  hand,  such  schools  were  subject  to  visitation  and  re- 
port on  the  part  of  Government  inspectors,  and  any  infringe- 
ment of  the  fundamental  regulations  forfeited  the  grant. 

There  had  not  been  wanting  efforts  enough  previously  to 
supply  Ireland  with  public  schools ;  but  there  were  semi- 
naries which  the  Catholic  Irish  could  not  be  induced  to 
enter.  There  were  the  Royal  Free  Schools  in  1608,  Erasmus 
Smith's  Schools  in  1733,  the  London  Hibernian  Society 
Schools  in  1811,  besides  quite  a  number  of  others.  They  all 
aimed  more  or  less  energetically  at  "weaning  the  Irish  youth 
from  Popery ; "  and  the  Irish  youth,  still  more  energetically 
refusing  to  be  so  weaned,  stopped  away  en  masse.  In  the 
sad  choice  between  loss  of  school  education  on  the  one  hand 
and  sacrifice  of  religious  convictions  on  the  other,  Irish 
parents  preferred  the  former  for  their  children.  It  was  not 
that  they  cared  little  for  education  ;  they  passionately  wor- 
shiped it, — yearned  for  it,  as  the  blind  may  long  to  see  the 
wonders  of  the  earth  and  skies  which  they  hear  of  but  can- 
not realize.  They  dared  the  penalties  of  the  7  Will.  III. 
cap.  iv.  sec.  1, — which  made  it  civil  death  for  a  Popish  child 
to  be  sent  to  a  school  in  foreign  parts.  Contraband  scholars 


20  NEW  IRELAND. 

often  were  the  return  cargoes  of  the  smuggling  craft  that 
nightly  ran  silk  and  brandies  into  Irish  creeks  and  bays  in 
the  early  part  of  the  last  century.  The  Irish  valued  educa- 
tion much,  but  they  loved  religion  more. 

Over  the  Irish  national-school  system  established  by  Mr. 
Stanley  in  1831  a  fierce  controversy  has  raged  for  some 
years.  In  one  respect  at  all  events,  and  indeed  in  many 
more  respects  than  one,  it  has  been  a  marvelous  success, 
despite  circumstances  which  have  greatly  marred  and  cir- 
cumscribed its  operations.  That  is  to  say,  although  that 
scheme  rather  painfully  balked  the  Irish  of  that  which  after 
such  severe  suffering  and  sacrifice  they  had  some  reason  to 
expect, — namely,  a  system  of  public  education  as  much  in 
accordance  with  their  religious  convictions  as  the  Scottish 
and  English  systems  were  with  those  of  the  Scotch  and 
English  peoples, — they  nevertheless  "attorned"  to  it;  and 
for  the  first  time  in  Anglo-Irish  annals,  Irish  children  in 
thousands  flocked  into  the  Government  schools. 

Mr.  Stanley  stands  in  history  as  the  author  of  the  scheme ; 
but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Lord  Cloncurry  it  was  who  devised 
and  suggested  it,  the  Irish  Secretary  coming  slowly  to  es- 
pouse the  project.  When  he  did  undertake  the  question, 
however,  he  dealt  with  it  firmly,  and  not  only  went  as  far 
toward  a  complete  solution  as  he  might  dare  at  the  moment, 
but  even  exceeded  in  boldness  what  others  in  his  place  would 
probably  have  proposed.  He  doubtless  reflected  that  he  was 
doing  the  best  that  was  practicable  at  the  time,  and  that  in 
any  event  his  scheme  would  be  welcomed  as  a  blessed  boon 
compared  with  the  pre-existing  state  of  things  in  Ireland. 
On  the  one  hand,  all  previous  experiments  aimed  more  or 
less  directly  at  converting  the  Irish  from  Catholicism ;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  Irish  demanded  a  public-school  system 
at  least  as  denominational  as  the  English  or  Scottish  system. 
His  proposal  was  to  forbid  proselytism,  but  to  exclude  all 
denominationalism  :  "  combined  literary  and  separate  relig- 
ious instruction. "  At  a  fixed  or  particular  hour  Scripture 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  21 

lessons,  catechism  exercises,  or  other  religious  instruction 
might  be  given  by  the  teacher,  or  any  one  else  authorized  by 
the  parent  so  to  do ;  but  throughout  the  rest  of  the  day, 
during  school-hours  proper,  nothing  in  the  nature  of  relig- 
ious instruction  was  allowed.  In  the  early  years  of  the 
system  (hardly  in  consonance  with  the  strict  letter  of  its 
rules)  an  attempt  was  made  to  go  some  way  toward  what 
would  be  called  the  teaching  of  "common  Christianity."  A 
scriptural  "General  Lesson"  was  framed  by  order  of  the 
commissioners,  hung  up  in  every  school,  and  ordered  to  be 
read  aloud  by  teacher  and  pupils  every  day.  In  the  early 
manuals,  portions  of  Bible  history  were  given ;  and  the  Most 
Rev.  Dr.  Whately,  Protestant  archbishop  of  Dublin  (one  of 
the  commissioners),  compiled  a  book  of  religious  instruction, 
called  "  Lessons  on  the  Truths  of  Christianity,"  which  the 
Board  made  a  class-book  in  the  schools.  But  soon  this  tick- 
lish experiment  broke  down  ;  the  common  religious  teaching 
was  abandoned,  and  the  system  was  contracted  more  and 
more  within  its  strictly  non-religious  basis.  Secular  schools 
were  utterly  repugnant  to  the  "  denominational"  principles 
of  the  Catholics.  Still,  the  system  was  so  great  a  boon, 
.  compared  with  any  previous  plan  or  proposal,  that  the 
Catholic  prelates,  with  but  few  exceptions,*  decided  that  to 
reject  it  would  be  wrong,  and  might,  moreover,  seem  like  an 
obstruction  of  education  on  their  part.  The  scheme,  no 
doubt,  was  not  theirs ;  the  State  was  acting  on  its  own  view, 
for  State  reasons  and  with  State  funds.  They  would  accept 
that  system  under  reserve,  make  the  most  of  it,  and  hope 
eventually  to  have  it  developed  into  something  nearer  to 
their  own  convictions. 

Lord  Derby's  experiment  had  to  bear  the  disadvantages 
incidental  to  compromises.  Protestant  society,  and  this  in- 
cluded very  nearly  the  whole  of  the  landed  proprietary,  felt 

*  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  MacHale,  Archbishop  of  Tuam,  from  the  out- 
set resolutely  refused  to  approve  or  accept  the  new  system. 


22  NEW  IRELAND, 

indignant.  To  give  education  to  these  Catholic  millions, 
unless  an  education  that  would  help  to  lead  them  from  spir- 
itual slavery  and  superstition,  could  have  but  an  evil  ending, 
if  it  was  not  indeed  a  sin.  No  aid  would  they  give,  by  local 
subscriptions,  to  such  an  apostasy  from  Bible  principles. 
The  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
their  grievance.  "  The  Government  tell  us,"  they  said, 
"that  this  is  what  we  must  have;  it  is  their  choice,  not 
ours.  Well,  let  them  pay  for  it."  Between  these  two  com- 
plaints the  Irish  national-education  system  has  been  left 
almost  entirely  dependent  on  the  State  grant  for  means  of 
support ;  local  effort,  local  aid,  being  of  hardly  appreciable 
extent.  The  unfortunate  school-teachers  have  been  great 
sufferers  by  this  state  of  things.  On  twenty-five  or  thirty 
pounds  a  year,  a  young  woman  of  fair  education,  exemplary 
character,  and  respectable  position  was  expected  to  clothe 
and  support  herself,  and  teach  from  day  to  day  in  a  school 
to  and  from  which,  in  the  country  districts,  she  had  to  walk 
three  or  four  miles  in  summer's  sun  and  winter's  rain.  At 
the  present  day — and  the  salaries  have  been  greatly  im- 
proved within  the  past  ten  years — the  emoluments  of  Irish 
national  school-teachers  do  not  average  fifty  pounds  a  year. 

It  was  a  gigantic  enterprise  to  establish  and  bring  to  its 
present  dimensions  and  comparative  efficiency  the  Irish  na- 
tional-school organization.  Those  who  are  engaged  in 
school-board  work  in  England  find  how  arduous  is  the  task 
of  constructing  a  new  system  even  in  wealthy  cities  and 
towns,  where  schools  of  some  sort  already  exist.  But  all 
over  three-fourths  of  Ireland  everything  had  to  be  under- 
taken ab  initio  and  under  the  most  formidable  disadvantages 
and  discouragements.  Where  were  school-houses  to  be 
found  ?  Where  were  teachers  to  be  obtained  ?  Above  all, 
where  were  the  funds  to  come  from  ?  The  Government 
grant,  slender  enough  at  best,  was  to  be  given  to  "aid"  an 
"established"  school.  How  were  the  schools  to  be  estab- 
lished? 


•«  TEE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  23 

Happily  one  now  sees  when  traveling  through  Ireland 
many  neat  and  tidy  little  school-houses,  with  slated  roofs 
and  boarded  floors.  But  the  first  "  national  schools  "  were 
woful  make-shifts,  —  thatched  cabins  with  earthen  floors, 
miserable  and  cheerless  in  winter,  deathly  in  their  effects  on 
the  health  of  teacher  and  pupil.  To  set  up  even  one  of 
these  in  a  considerable  district  was  at  first  a  great  achieve- 
ment. I  have  myself  seen  children  of  from  six  to  sixteen 
years  of  age  trudging  (barefooted,  of  course)  over  bog  and 
moor,  crag  and  pathway,  to  such  a  school  distant  four  or 
five  miles — in  some  instances  seven  miles — from  their  homes  ! 

The  Education  Commissioners,  by  more  adequate  parlia- 
mentary  grants  placed  at  their  disposal,  have  been  able  to  do 
a  great  deal  in  helping  the  erection  of  better  school-houses ; 
but  the  improvement  now  noticeable  is  almost  entirely  due 
to  the  toilsome  and  unwearied  exertions  of  the  clergy,  who 
are,  as  a  general  rule,  the  local  patrons  or  managers  under 
the  Board.  The  instances  are  also  increasing  every  year 
where  the  landed  proprietor  of  the  district  has  largely  or 
wholly  at  his  own  cost  erected  suitable  national  school-houses 
on  the  estate.  Perhaps  the  most  notable  improvement,  how- 
ever, is  that  for  which  the  Irish  schools  are  indebted  to  the 
generosity  of  one  man, — Mr.  Vere  Foster.  In  one  of  those 
numerous  pedestrian  tours  through  Ireland  which  Mr.  Foster 
has  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  been  accustomed  to  take,  on 
some  benevolent  or  philanthropic  purpose  bent,  he  was  struck 
with  the  fact  which  I  have  above  alluded  to, — the  wretched 
discomfort  and  unhealthiness  of  the  damp  earthen  floor  in 
schools  frequented  by  barefooted  children.  Keeping  for  the 
while  his  purpose  to  himself,  he  quietly  noted  down  the  di- 
mensions of  each  such  school  throughout  the  country,  and, 
when  his  tour  was  completed,  had  a  boarded  floor  supplied 
at  his  own  cost  to  every  one  of  them.* 

*  The  author  of  this  generous  act  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men 
in  Ireland.  He  may  be  encountered  betimes,  simply  attired  in  Irish 


24  NEW  IRELAND. 

During  the  first  dozen  years  of  its  existence,  the  Irish 
national-school  system,  although  supposed  to  be,  as  we  have 
seen,  quite  undenominational,  was,  in  practice,  denomina- 
tional. In  few  of  the  schools  was  the  attendance  "mixed."' 
In  Ulster,  Protestant  managers  established  schools  in  which 
a  Catholic  child  was  never  seen ;  in  the  other  provinces, 
Catholic  managers  (generally  the  parish  priests)  established 
schools  in  which  a  Protestant  pupil  never  entered.  In  fact 
in  numberless  parishes  there  were  no  Protestant  youth  to 
enter  or  to  abstain.  It  soon  became  too  patent  an  absurdity 
that  out  of  respect  for  the  conscience  of  the  theoretic  or 
imaginary  but  non-existent  child  of  a  different  persuasion — 
this  ' '  legal  fiction  "  for  which  the  parish  had  never  a  realiza- 
tion— the  whole  school  should  be  conducted  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end  as  if  he  was  in  the  flesh  and  verily  present.  After 
a  while,  teachers  and  managers  disregarded  the  theory ;  and 
for  a  long  time,  despite  the  letter  of  the  Board  rules,  wher- 
ever the  schools  were  exclusively  Protestant  or  exclusively 
Catholic  in  attendance,  they  were  actually  conducted  as  de- 
nominational schools.  In  Ulster,  the  Bible  was  freely  read  at 
all  hours  ;  in  the  south,  the  Catholic  catechism  mingled  in  the 
whole  day's  exercises.  It  is  not  unlikely,  indeed,  that  the 
commissioners  rather  winked  at  all  this,  and  thought  it  wise 
to  let  the  system  be  accepted,— to  let  it  take  root  and  grow 
anyhow.  Once  it  was  firmly  established  they  could  tighten 
up  both  rule  and  practice. 

I  witnessed  on  one  occasion,  some  years  after  the  tighten- 
ing-up  process  had  gone  into  play,  a  curious  illustration  of 
the  working  of  the  system. 

In  King's  Inn  Street,  Dublin,  in  the  midst  of  a  very  poor 
and  wretched  Catholic  population,  some  of  the  zealous  prose- 
lytizing Protestant  societies  established  a  school  "under  the 

home-spun  gray,  with  knapsack  strapped  on  his  back,  and  a  stout  black- 
thorn in  his  hand,  walking  by  easy  stages  through  some  remote  county, 
silently  devising  or  effecting  some  scheme  worthy  of  "  Howard  the 
Good." 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  25 

Board,"  and  duly  received  a  Board  grant.  They  kept  within 
the  Board  rules  as  to  the  hours  for  religious  instruction,  yet 
were  able  to  bring  the  ragged  little  Papists  under  scriptural 
class  teaching  all  the  same  ;  for  a  breakfast  or  lunch  Avas 
given  along  with  it.  In  fact,  when  I  visited  the  school, 
the  soup-boilers  were  down-stairs  in  the  basement  in  full 
performance. 

The  Catholic  clergy  soon  heard  of  these  operations  carried 
on  under  the  aegis  of  the  national  Board  system.  They  re- 
monstrated, but  the  Board  could  do  nothing  :  its  rules  were 
not  violated.  It  was,  however,  pointed  out  to  the  reverend 
complainants  that  they  too  could  set  up  a  Board  school  in  the 
district ;  which  indeed  they  did,  by  taking  the  opposite  house 
in  the  street,  so  that  within  a  perch  of  one  another  there  were 
two  "national  schools"  arrayed  in  denominational  duel.  I 
heard  of  all  this,  and  decided  to  see  it  for  myself.  When  I 
visited  "No.  2,"  or  the  Catholic  school,  which  was  taught 
by  nuns,  it  was  the  rule  hour  for  "religious  instruction."  I 
was  astonished  to  see  a  beautiful  little  oratory  at  the  end  of 
the  room,  wreathed  with  flowers,  and  lighted  up  with  tapers, 
while  the  children  were  singing  in  chorus  a  Catholic  hymn. 
"How  on  earth  do  the  Board  allow  you  to  have  this  ora- 
tory ?"  I  asked  of  the  sister  in  charge.  "It  is  forbidden  to 
have  any  religious  picture,  symbol,  or  sign,  and  the  practice 
of  silently  bowing  the  head  in  mental  prayer,  at  the  stroke 
of  the  clock,  has  been  declared  against  the  rules :  yet  here 
you  have  outstripped  all  these." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  replied  the  nun  ;  "just  wait  a  while  till 
the  rule  hour  for  resumption  of  school  strikes,  and  you  shall 
see." 

Sure  enough,  at  stroke  of  the  clock  a  transformation  that 
rather  surprised  me  took  place.  Folding  doors  that  I  had 
not  noticed  were  at  once  closed  in  on  the  oratory ;  a  top  fell 
over  it,  steps  were  drawn  out  in  front,  and,  lo  !  nothing  ap- 
peared but  a  teacher's  rostrum  ! 

I  hardly  knew  what  to  say,— what  feelings  were  upper- 


26  NEW  IRELAND. 

most  at  the  first  moment ;  but  a  very  little  reflection  satisfied 
me  that  it  could  hardly  have  a  good  moral  effect  on  children 
to  see  the  "secular"  and  "religious"  lines  drawn  so  sharply 
as  that. 

I  crossed  the  street  to  the  Protestant  school  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  teacher  there.  He  grievously 
complained  of  the  opposition  establishment  over  the  way, 
and  spoke  feelingly  of  the  reduction  which  it  had  effected 
in  his  daily  attendance. 

"The  worst  of  it  is,  sir,  we  discovered  that  the  young 
rascals  used  to  come  here  to  us  in  the  morning  and  take  our 
breakfast,  and  then  make  off  across  the  street  to  the  nuns." 

"Did  you  then  strike  them  off  the  roll  ?" 

"  We  daren't,  but  we  tried  to  identify  the  individual  pu- 
pils who  so  acted,  and  stopped  their  breakfast  on  them. 
HoAvever,  we  have  come  upon  a  plan  now  which  baffles  them 
completely." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"Why,  sir,  we  don't  give  the  breakfast  till  school  and 
Scripture  class  are  over,  at  three  o'clock ! " 

For  many  years  the  Protestant  clergy  and  laity  held  entirely 
aloof  from  the  national  schools.  They  would  not  countenance 
a  system  of  popular  education  that  was  not  religious  and 
scriptural.  At  all  events  a  school  without  an  open  Bible — 
one  in  which  the  Bible  would  be  padlocked  and  unpadlocked 
at  certain  hours — they  would  not  have.  If  with  some  of 
them  the  objection  partook  of  regret  that  opportunity  for 
effecting  conversions  among  the  Catholics  would  be  so  far 
given  up,  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  on  the  other 
hand  with  the  bulk  of  the  Protestant  clergy  and  laity  it  pro- 
ceeded from  an  upright  conscientious  principle,  and  had  ref- 
erence solely  or  mainly  to  consideration  for  the  youth  of  their 
own  communion.  Many  overtures  were  made,  many  nego- 
tiations tried,  for  a  long  time  in  vain,  to  secure  their  adhe- 
sion. One  great  stumbling-block  for  them  was  a  rule  Avhich 
forbade  the  teacher  to  allow  a  pupil  while  at  school  to  be 


••  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  27 

present  at  religious  instruction  different  from  the  creed  in 
which  he  was  entered  on  the  school  register,  unless  the  pupil 
was  so  present  with  his  parents'  ascertained  permission.  The 
Protestant  clergyman,  otherwise  disposed  to  work  with  the 
national  Board,  stopped  invincibly  at  this  point.  "My  or- 
dination vows,"  he  said,  "and  my  own  sense  of  duty  forbid 
me  to  take  any  one  by  the  shoulder  and  remove  him,  lest  he 
should  hear  me  preach  the  gospel.  I  am  quite  ready  to  say 
that  I  will  not  compel  any  pupil  in  my  school,  if  under  the 
Board,  to  be  so  present,  let  him  absent  himself  if  he  will ; 
but  if  he  be  present  I  shall  certainly  not  turn  him  off." 

The  Education  Board  on  its  part  pleaded  that  it  was  upon 
the  faith  that  their  children  ran  no  risk  or  chance  whatever 
of  being  present  at  religious  teachings  not  their  own,  within 
the  school,  that  the  masses  of  the  Irish  people  had  been  in- 
duced to  come  into  the  system.  From  1844  to  1847  this 
controversy  went  on,  the  correspondence  on  behalf  of  the 
Protestant  clergy  being  most  ably  conducted  by  the  late 
Archdeacon  Stopford,  of  Meath,  and  in  September,  1847,  the 
following  compromise  was  eventually  arranged  between  him 
and  the  Board : 

Thenceforth  no  teacher  need  prevent  a  child  from  being 
'present  at  religious  instruction  contrary  to  his  registered 
creed  ;  but  whenever  a  pupil  was  for  the  first  time  so  present, 
the  teacher  was  to  send  to  the  parent  a  filled-up  printed  ticket 
notifying  that  fact.  On  this  new  rule — popularly  known 
as  "  the  Stopford  Rule  " — a  large  section  of  the  episcopalian 
Protestant  clergy  and  nearly  all  of  the  Presbyterians  came  in  ; 
but  at  exactly  the  same  point,  and  on  the  same  ground,  there 
burst  forth  that  complaint  of  broken  faith  and  demand  for 
denominational  capitation  grants  which  the  Catholics  have 
ever  since  been  pressing  so  vehemently. 

Such  was  in  brief  the  early  history,  such  the  rise  and  prog- 
ress, of  the  national  education  system  in  Ireland. 

It  was  not  till  ten  or  twelve  years  after  the  actual  date  of 
its  establishment  that  even  the  first  faint  signs  of  its  work 


28  NEW  IRELAND. 

became  noticeable  outside  the  school-door  threshold.  But 
those  who  moved  among  the  people,  or  narrowly  watched  the 
phases  of  their  life,  began  as  early  as  1845  to  note  by  a  thou- 
sand symptoms  that  ''the  schoolmaster  was  abroad."  From 
1845  to  the  present  day  the  national  schools  have  been  turn- 
ing out  a  yearly  crop  of  thousands,  yea,  tens  of  thousands,  of 
youth.  The  average  standard  of  proficiency  attained,  espec- 
ially in  rural  districts,  is  even  still  very  low,  owing  to  the 
short  and  broken  periods  for  which  children  are  allowed  to 
attend  school  rather  than  help  to  earn  for  home  by  work  in 
the  fields.  But,  slight  as  the  actual  achievement  may  be  in 
a  strictly  educational  point  of  view,  socially  and  politically 
considered,  nothing  short  of  a  revolution  has  been  effected. 
There  is  now  scarcely  a  farm-house  or  working-man's  home 
in  all  the  land  in  which  the  boy  or  girl  of  fifteen,  or  the 
young  man  or  woman  of  twenty-five,  cannot  read  the  news- 
paper for  "  the  old  people,"  and  transact  their  correspondence. 
Our  amusing  friend  the  parish  letter- writer  has  almost  disap- 
peared. His  occupation  is  gone.  For  public  news  the  peasant 
no  longer  relies  on  the  Sunday  gossip  after  mass.  For  po- 
litical views  he  is  no  longer  absolutely  dependent  on  the 
advice  and  guidance  of  Father  Tom.  He  may  never  find 
counselor  more  devoted  and  faithful ;  the  political  course  he 
may  now  follow  may  be  more  rash  or  more  profitable,  more 
wise  or  more  wrong  ;  but  for  good  or  ill  it  will  be  his  own. 
He  will  still,  indeed,  trust  largely  to  those  whom  he  judges 
worthy  of  his  confidence,  and  largely  follow  their  lead  ;  but 
not  in  the  same  way  as  of  yore. 

Not  all  at  once  will  one  perceive  how  many  and  how  vast 
are  the  changes  which  flow  from  these  altered  circumstances. 
It  is,  I  repeat,  nothing  less  than  a  revolution  that  the  humble 
little  thatch-roofed  national  school — or,  let  me  more  accu- 
rately say,  the  national  school  supplemented  by  a  cheap  popu- 
lar literature — has  effected  in  Ireland.  Political  leadership, 
in  the  sense  in  which  it  prevailed  in  our  fathers'  time,  is  gone 
forever, — would  be  simply  impossible  now.  And  with  the 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  29 

old-time  leadership  of  one  magnificent  genius,  or  one  well- 
trusted  class,  there  have  also  disappeared  many  of  the  old- 
time  modes  and  habits  of  political  life  and  action.  It  is 
utterly  astonishing  how  few  persons  seem  to  realize  or  to  have 
noticed  these  changes  so  palpably  though  so  silently  wrought 
under  their  very  eyes  during  the  last  thirty  years.  Every 
day  we  hear  some  one  whose  memory  dwells  ardently  on  the 
period  of  Reform  or  Emancipation  or  Eepeal,  telling  us  what 
should  be  done  now,  and  how  done,  because  it  was  done, 
and  so  done,  then.  As  well  might  he  tell  us  of  the  times  of 
Brian  Boru.  Be  it  for  better  or  be  it  for  worse,  a  new  Ire- 
land has  arisen  since  then. 


CHAPTER  III. 

O'CONNELL  AND  BEPEAL. 

THE  prominent  figure,  the  leading  character,  in  Irish  life 
five-and-thirty  years  ago  was  Daniel  O'Connell.  As  we  look 
back  upon  that  period  we  see  his  great  form  flung  upon  the 
Irish  sky  like  that  of  some  Titan  towering  above  the  race  of 
men. 

In  Ireland  he  is  fondly  styled  "the  Liberator  ;"  in  Eng- 
land known  as  the  "Irish  Agitator."  In  Rome  his  memory 
is  held  in  benediction  as  that  of  a  "champion  of  the 
Church."  Hardly  yet,  long  as  he  has  lain  in  the  national 
mausoleum  at  Glasnevin,  have  prejudice  and  passion  ceased 
to  struggle  over  his  bier  and  allowed  him  to  be  dispassion- 
ately contemplated  as  an  historical  character. 

No  man  can  be  named  who  at  any  time  in  Irish  affairs 
attained  to  such  popularity  as  that  which  was  O'Connell's  in 
1844,  when  he  may  be  said  to  have  reached  the  zenith  of  his 
power.  Like  other  master  characters  in  history,  he  carved 
out  his  own  career,  and  attained  to  eminence  by  virtue  of 
his  own  strong  will,  by  the  force  of  commanding  genius. 
He  inherited  no  lordly  title  ;  he  succeeded  to  no  great  terri- 
torial influence.  He  belonged  to  an  ancient  and  honored 
Celtic  family  in  "West  Kerry,  and  was  expectant  heir  to  an 
nncle — "  Old  Hunting-Cap  " — who  would  have  left  him 
considerable  means  had  the  future  tribune  not  married  for 
love  and  displeased  the  wealthy  old  squire.  He  entered  the 
Irish  bar.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  only  men  who  within 
the  last  hundred  years  became  really  great  popular  leaders 
in  Ireland  were  barristers,  who  first  won  popular  confidence 

30 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  31 

and  popular  influence  by  their  forensic  abilities ;  namely, 
Daniel  O'Connell  and  Isaac  Butt.  The  bar,  in  any  country 
possessing  such,  an  institution,  must  always  to  a  great  extent 
contribute  "leaders  of  public  opinion."  From  its  ranks 
are  most  likely  to  come,  unless  abnormal  influences  prevail, 
the  men  most  able  to  plead  and  press  a  public  cause.  In 
Ireland,  however,  there  have  been  greater  and  exceptional 
reasons  to  bring  the  advocate  into  the  forefront  as  the  politi- 
cal leader.  The  man  who  could  "  run  a  coach-and-four 
through  any  act  of  Parliament,"  as  O'Connell  boasted  he 
could  do,  who  could  put  down  the  Attorney-General  and 
baffle  the  Crown,  who  was  ready  to  take  the  brief  of  the 
weak  against  the  strong,  to  compel  justice  for  the  poor,  was 
inevitably  marked  out  for  popularity  among  a  people  like  the 
Irish.  His  skill,  his  learning,  his  eloquence,  his  ingenuity, 
were  all  tested,  exhibited,  and  proved  before  their  eyes. 
Moreover,  in  no  generation  has  Ireland  been  without  the 
exciting  spectacle  of  State  trials  or  political  prosecutions. 
The  accused  stepped  from  the  dock  to  the  scaffold,  from  the 
cell  to  the  convict-ship,  bequeathing  names  and  memories 
destined  to  immortality  in  rustic  ballad  or  fireside  story,  and 
the  advocate  who  defended  them,  especially  if  supposed  to 
sympathize  with  them,  became  a  hero. 

When  one  speaks  of  O'ConnelPs  popularity,  however,  a 
qualification  or  distinction  needs  to  be  noted.  It  was  almost 
exclusively  confined  to  one  section  of  the  nation,  though  no 
doubt,  counting  heads,  that  was  the  overwhelming  prepon- 
derance of  the  nation.  Not  only  was  O'Connell  wwpopular 
with  the  Irish  Protestants,  he  was  absolutely  a  terror  to 
them.  Many  other  Irish  national  leaders  before  his  time, 
in  his  time,  and  since,  might  be  named  whose  following  was 
somewhat  distributed  through  the  various  sections,  creeds, 
and  classes  of  Irishmen  ;  notably  Henry  Grattan,  John  Mar- 
tin, and  Isaac  Butt.  But  to  the  Protestants  of  his  day  O'Con- 
nell seemed  a  combination  of  Guy  Fawkes,  the  Pretender, 
and  the  Pope  of  Rome.  While  his  trial  was  proceeding,  or 


32  NEW  IRELAND. 

rather  concluding,  in  1844,  an  old  gentleman  named  Ffol- 
liott — a  good  type  of  the  stanch  old  Tory  gentleman  of  that 
day  in  Ireland — lay  dying  in  a  southern  county. 

"Do  you  rest  all  your  hopes  on  the  merits  of  your  Saviour, 
Mr.  Ff  olliott  ?  "  said  the  rector,  who  stood  by  his  bedside. 

"Yes,  I  do,  all,"  murmured  the  dying  man. 

"And  are  you  directing  all  your  thoughts  at  this  moment 
to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  Mr.  Ff  olliott  ?  " 

"  And  nowhere  else." 

"Above  all,  I  trust  you  forgive  every  one,  and  feel  at 
peace  with  all  men  ?  " 

"With  all  mankind,"  responded  the  genial  old  fox-hun- 
ter. 

There  was  a  solemn  pause. 

"Mr.  Halliday,"  he  half  whispered,  "is  the  Dublin  mail 
in  yet?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  about  an  hour  ago." 

The  dying  man  roused  himself  instantly,  and  with  sharp 
eagerness  asked,  "How  about  the  trials?  Is  O'Connell 
convicted  ?  " 

"  Found  guilty,  sir." 

"  Thanks  be  to  God  !  "  was  the  last  pious  ejaculation  of 
the  worthy  old  squire. 

All  this  love  and  confidence,  all  this  fear  and  hatred,  had 
been  earned  by  O'Connell  in  his  "  Emancipation  "  career, 
which  extended  from  1810,  when  he  may  be  said  to  have 
entered  public  life,  to  1829,  when  he  vanquished  utterly  and 
completely  the  hostile  power  of  the  Peel- Wellington  Gov- 
ernment. From  1830  to  1840  he  was  engaged  in  the  scarcely 
less  important  struggles  which  ensued  on  the  Tithe  question 
and  Municipal  Reform, — corollaries,  so  to  speak,  of  Catho- 
lic Emancipation. 

On  the  subject  of  Repeal  O'Connell's  first  public  speech 
was  delivered;  and  this  question,  not  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion, attracted  his  earliest  sympathies.  To  many  ears  the 
statement  will  sound  strange  and  startling,  but  it  is  historical 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  33 

fact,  that  at  that  time  the  ultra-Protestant  and  Tory  party 
in  Ireland  were  the  great  agitators  for  Repeal  of  the  Union. 
The  anti-Union  resolutions  of  the  Orange  lodges  would  fill 
pages  of  print.  The  Protestant  bankers  and  merchants  of 
Dublin  vied  Avith  the  Protestant  nobility  and  gentry  of  the 
provinces  in  denouncing  the  Union.  Never  for  a  moment 
did  its  effectuation  cause  an  altered  view  of  the  transaction. 
As  there  was  no  disguise  made  of  the  heavy  sums  paid  for 
the  votes  requisite  to  secure  a  ministerial  majority,  the  peo- 
ple viewed  the  transaction  very  much  as  New  York  citizens 
regarded  a  "  presentment "  of  Tweed's  grand  jury,  thirteen 
of  whom  he  kept  in  his  pay — a  bold  and  successful  fraud  in 
the  guise  of  law.  The  Catholics  at  this  time  could  hardly 
be  said  to  be  participants  in  general  political  affairs  ;  still, 
although  their  bishops  *  were  more  than  suspected  of  Union- 
ist sentiments,  the  feelings  of  the  general  body  were  enthu- 
siastically with  their  Protestant  fellow-countrymen.  The 
movement  for  Eepeal  of  the  Union  was  really  begun  in  1810 
by  a  requisition  from  the  Grand  Jurors  of  Dublin  to  the 
High  Sheriffs,  Sir  Edward  Stanley  and  Sir  James  Riddall, 
calling  upon  them  to  convene  a  public  meeting  of  "the 
freemen  and  freeholders  of  Dublin"  for  the  purpose  of  peti- 
tioning Parliament  to  repeal  the  hateful  and  injurious  act. 
At  this  meeting,  held  on  the  18th  of  September,  1810,  the 
ultra- Protestant  and  Tory  merchants  and  gentry  of  Dublin 
launched  the  movement  which  O'Connell,  thirty  years  after, 
made  his  own. 

How  then,  it  may  be  asked,  did  the  question  happen  to 
lose  its  strongly  Protestant  character  ?  How  did  young 
O'Connell  and  his  co-religionists  come  to  devote  themselves 
first  to  Emancipation  rather  than  Eepeal  ? 

O'Connell  often  subsequently  expressed  his  regret  that  he 
and  they  had  not,  in  1810,  thrown  themselves  to  the  side  of 

*  Pitt  had  promised  them  that  Catholic  Emancipation  should  be  one 
of  the  first  acts  passed  in  the  Imperial  Parliament ;  but  of  course  the 
promise  was  not  fulfilled. 
2* 


34  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  Protestant  Repealers,  and  looked  for  Emancipation  to 
an  Irish  rather  than  to  an  imperial  legislature.  "  Restore 
the  penal  laws,  if  you  will  ;  but  repeal  the  Union,"  was  his 
vehement  exclamation  in  after  years.  But  in  1810  the  Irish 
Catholics  had  abundant  offers  of  assistance  for  Emancipation 
from  a  powerful  party  in  the  imperial  Parliament ;  while  in 
that  assembly  no  party  would  help  either  Protestant  or  Cath- 
olic Irishmen  with  Repeal.  The  consideration  was  strongly 
attractive  to  strive  first  for  what  was  nearest  at  hand  or  was 
most  practicable  of  attainment.  The  English  Liberal  party 
persuaded  the  Irish  Catholic  leaders  to  go  for  Emancipation, 
which  was  "  already  half  carried,"  and  in  which  they  could 
aid  them.  "  Eirst  gain  equality  as  citizens,"  said  persuasive 
counselors,  "  and  then,  if  you  will,  use  your  powers  as  free 
men  to  co-operate  with  your  Protestant  fellow-countrymen 
in  their  efforts  for  Repeal."  In  this  view  O'Connell  acqui- 
esced. He  little  thought  that  amidst  the  fierce  fires  of  the 
struggle  for  religious  equality  the  Protestant  movement  for 
Repeal  was  to  disappear  !  When  Emancipation  was  won, 
when  the  Tithe  grievance  was  moderated,  and  the  Protest- 
ant rector  no  more  went  forth  with  armed  men  to  seize 
"every  tenth  sheaf "  from  the  Catholic  peasants' haggard, 
when  the  municipal  corporations  of  the  country  were,  like 
Parliament  itself,  opened  to  Catholics,  and  citizenship  was 
at  length  secured,  O'Connell  felt  that  the  time  had  come  for 
a  still  greater  question  than  any  of  these, — one  upon  which 
he  fondly,  but  erroneously,  imagined  he  could  unite  Cath- 
olic and  Protestant  Irishmen.  He  looked  around  for  the 
Repeal  Protestants  ;  but  they  were  gone. 

There  was  no  avoiding  the  determination  which  he  then 
adopted — to  take  into  his  own  hands  the  banner  which  the 
Protestant  chiefs  had  flung  down.  Although  a  study  of  all 
the  circumstances,  by  the  light  of  subsequent  experience, 
shows  us  that  the  leader  who  won  Catholic  Emancipation 
could  not  have  been  the  man  to  carry  Repeal,  no  other  course 
was  honorably  open  to  O'Connell  and  the  Irish  Catholics. 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  35 

Had  they  adopted  as  their  motto,  "Best  and  be  thankful," 
having  won  religious  rights,  had  they  stopped  there,  the 
Protestants  would  be  able  forever  to  taunt  them  with  having 
belied  the  solemn  declarations  of  1810,  which  pledged  them 
to  consecrate  their  first  efforts  as  free  men  to  the  non-sec- 
tarian question  of  a  national  legislature.  "  These  Catholics,  "4 
it  would  be  said,  "think  only  of  their  Church.  Having 
freed  their  Church,  they  are  satisfied,  and  leave  their  coun- 
try to  shift  for  itself." 

When  he  launched  his  Eepeal  agitation,  O'Connell  strove 
hard  to  propitiate  Irish  Protestantism  ;  but  he  strove  in 
vain.  He  saw  but  too  well  that  in  the  new  struggle  there 
must  be  a  blending  of  creeds ;  but  the  movement  must  be 
national  not  sectional,  or  it  would  fail.  But  it  became  plain 
that  the  very  circumstances  that  gave  to  him  his  unrivaled 
power  with  the  masses  fatally  disqualified  him  here.  The 
time  was  all  too  near  a  struggle  so  desperate  and  bitter  as 
that  in  which  he  and  his  despised  "  Popish  bog-trotters  "  had 
vanquished  the  haughty  Protestant  aristocracy  of  the  island. 
When  they  saw  the  man  who  had  stormed  and  carried  the 
strongholds  of  exclusive  Protestant  power  coming  forward 
at  last  to  claim  the  restoration  of  the  Irish  parliament 
(though  a  claim  which  they  themselves  had  been  most  vehe- 
mently raising  previously),  they  went  frantic  with  alarm. 
"He  now,"  they  cried,  "wants  a  Popish  parliament,  to  doom 
us  all  to  the  gibbet  and  stake  !  "  And  so,  for  the  first  time 
in  their  history,  they  became  Unionists,  through  fear  of 
"  Dan  O'Connell  and  the  Pope." 

O'Connell  soon  found  how  great  a  change  thirty  or  forty 
years  had  made  in  the  attitude  of  parties  and  the  bearing  of 
public  questions.  In  1805  or  1810,  or  even  in  1820,  it  was 
but  a  comparatively  short  and  easy  step  to  revert  to  the 
familiar  institution,  so  recently  overthrown,  of  King,  Lords, 
and  Commons  of  Ireland.  "  Repeal "  meant  simply  the  re- 
peal of  an  act  of  Parliament  a  few  years  old, — a  proceeding 
which  would  replace  things  as  they  stood,  as  it  were,  but 


36  I  NEW  IRELAND. 

yesterday.  No  new  machinery  would  be  needed.  It  was 
merely  that  once  more,  as  before,  the  Viceroy  would  proceed 
in  state  from  Dublin  Castle  to  the  Parliament  House  in  Col- 
lege Green,  and  read  the  royal  speech  to  the  peers  and  com- 
moners of  Ireland.  A  few  years  of  illegal  interregnum 
would  be  forgotten  in  the  general  joy.  Everything  would 
go  on  as  it  did  previously.  There  would  be  the  same  fran- 
chises, the  same  representation,  the  same  forms,  the  same 
domestic  and  international  relations. 

But  after  forty  years  had  passed,  it  was  found  this  could 
not  be  said.  Things  had  happened  in  the  interval  which 
rendered  a  return  to  the  old  arrangements,  pure  and  simple, 
an  impossibility.  The  very  reforms  which  O'Connell  had 
been  throughout  those  forty  years  laboring  to  accomplish 
forbade  a  restoration  of  the  old  forms  and  institutions. 
Catholic  Emancipation  enabled  Catholics  to  sit  in  Parlia- 
ment ;  whereas  in  the  Irish  legislature  none  but  Protestants 
could  have  a  place.  The  Reform  Bill  of  1832  revolution- 
ized the  old  franchise  and  representative  systems  ;  and  elec- 
tions to  an  Irish  parliament  on  any  but  the  new  ones  would 
be  out  of  the  question.  It  was  clear  that  new  arrangements 
would  have  to  be  made  ;  that  a  mere  repeal  of  the  Union 
Act,  throwing  things  back  upon  their  old  forms  of  existence, 
would  be  absurd,  if  not  impracticable. 

0 'Council's  demand,  therefore,  meant  a  great  deal  more 
than  Repeal ;  for  he  claimed  not  merely  to  annul  the  Act 
of  Union,  but  to  supplant  or  supplement  the  ancient  forms 
and  franchises,  checks  and  counterchecks,  by  the  important 
changes  which  an  imperial  legislature  had  in  the  interval 
decreed  and  effected.  This  gave  the  Government  a  clever 
advantage  in  argument.  "In  an  exclusively  Protestant 
Irish  parliament,"  they  said,  "England,  as  a  Protestant 
country,  had  a  certain  amount  of  security  for  the  connec- 
tion ;  but  under  a  new  arrangement,  to  allow  the  pre-Union 
powers  to  an  Irish  parliament  predominantly  Catholic  would 
afford  no  such  guarantee."  In  any  case  the  Government 


&  CORNELL  AND  REPEAL.  37 

party  would  have  resisted  the  demand  for  Repeal ;  but  tins 
demand  for  Eepeal  and  something  more  they  were  sure  to 
combat  with  all  the  greater  determination. 

O'Oonnell  felt  the  difficulty,  and  vainly  sought  to  parry 
it  by  declaring  he  would  be  satisfied  that  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion should  be  undone  if  it  stood  in  the  way  ;  but  this  was 
not  to  be  seriously  entertained.  One  can  hardly  credit  that 
the  Catholics  would  submit  to  it.  He  had  only  to  push  on 
witH  his  agitation  as  best  he  could,  laying  absurd  stress  on 
what  he  called  "the  golden  link  of  the  crown,"  and  claim- 
ing that  the  two  parliaments  (Irish  and  British)  would  soon 
come  to  an  amicable  arrangement  on  all  points  of  common 
interest.  Perhaps  they  might ;  perhaps  they  might  not.- 
The  imperialists,  however,  were  not  likely  to  commit  them- 
selves to  the  hazard  of  what  a  predominantly  Catholic  Irish 
parliament  might  or  might  not  do  with  powers  as  wide  or 
vague  as  those  possessed  by  the  Protestant  Irish  parliament 
of  1782. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  had  O'Connell  adopted  the 
course  taken  by  the  Home  Rulers  of  1870,  and  proposed 
those  international  arrangements,  compromises,  adjustments, 
and  guarantees  explicitly  beforehand,  he  would  have  consid- 
erably allayed  the  apprehensions  and  disarmed  the  hostility 
which  so  invincibly  encountered  his  movement.  At  one 
time  he  intimated  his  intention  of  doing  so  ;  but  the  popular 
feeling  in  favor  of  the  old  name  and  the  old  form  of  the 
national  demand  seemed  too  strong.  He  feared  to  let  the 
people  think  he  meant  to  abate  a  jot  of  his  claim  for  "  Re- 
peal," i.e.,  Repeal  plus  Catholic  Emancipation  and  Electoral 
and  Corporate  Reform  ;  but  from  that  hour  he  must  have 
felt  that  he  was  fighting  on  the  wrong  line  and  at  fatal  dis- 
advantage. 

The  affection  and  gratitude  of  the  Irish  people  for  "the 
Liberator"— and  well  he  earned  both  at  their  hands— will 
not  allow  much  freedom  in  criticising  his  plans  or  his  policy, 
his  conduct  or  his  character.  In  that  character  there  were 


38  NEW  IEELAND. 

some  features  and  elements  that  would  not  command  admira- 
tion in  these  later  days,  but  which  nevertheless  went  to  make 
up  his  qualifications  for  the  task  he  undertook.  He  was  the 
man  for  his  age  and  time,  the  man  for  the  special  work  and 
mission  which  he  was  assigned  to  fulfill.  In  many  respects 
he  would  be  sadly  out  of  place  in  the  public  life  of  1877 ; 
but  no  man  of  1877  could  accomplish  the  herculean  labors 
of  his  career.  True  greatness  of  soul  and  courage  indomi- 
table alone  could  have  carried  him  through  the  difficulties 
Which  he  cheerfully  faced  and  triumphantly  .encountered. 
Forlorn  indeed  were  the  fortunes  of  the  Irish  Catholics  when, 
surrendering  brilliant  professional  prospects  and  sacrificing 
every  other  ambition,  he  devoted  his  life  to  the  formidable 
enterprise  of  effecting  their  redemption.  When  he  entered 
public  aifairs,  and  for  a  long  time  afterward,  he  was  the 
object  of  dislike  and  hostility  on  the  part  of  many  of  the 
Catholic  prelates  and  most  of  the  Catholic  gentry  in  Ireland. 
They  denounced  him  as  a  "  demagogue."  Again  and  again 
our  "upper  class"  Catholics  assured  the  Government  of  the 
day  and  the  people  of  England  that  the  "extreme  ideas"  of 
violent  agitators  about  Emancipation  were  to  them,  as  mod- 
erate men  and  loyal  citizens,  positively  distressing.  A  hun- 
dred years  and  more  of  the  Penal  Code  had  done  its  work 
with  those  men.  They  trembled  lest'  new  commotions  might 
wrest  from  them  the  comparative  tolerance  they  now  enjoyed. 
"  Your  Grace  will,  I  hope,  not  deem  me  accountable  for  the 
foolishness  of  those  who  address  me  as  'My  Lord,'"  wrote  a 
Catholic  archbishop  of  O'Connell's  time  to  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington. Leave  to  live  seemed  a  great  deal  to  men  whose 
youth  had  seen  the  "  discoverer  "  and  the  "  priest-hunter  " 
at  work.* 

*  "Discoverers"  were  men  who  prowled  through  the  country  seek- 
ing out  grounds  for  the  filing  of  "  bills  of  discovery,"  as  they  were 
called,  against  Papists  holding  property,  or  against  Protestants  who 
held  lands  in  secret  trust  for  Papist  neighbors.  It  is  said  the  ances- 
tral estates  of  the  Bryans  of  Jenkinstown,  a  prominent  and  wealthy 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  39 

O'Conncll,  whoso  eloquence  was  massive  and  rugged,  some- 
times coarse,  and  rarely  classical,  answered  back  the  Catholic 
aristocracy  with  vituperation  and  scorn  for  their  slavishness 
and  cowardice.  The  bishops  he  studiously  passed  by.  He 
had  at  his  back  a  few  of  the  Catholic  gentry,  nearly  all  the 
Catholic  mercantile  and  middle  classes,  many  of  the  secular 
or  parochial  clergy,  and  the  religious  orders  to  a  man.  As 
for  his  humbler  classes,  it  is  hardly  an  exaggeration  to  say 
that  every  man,  woman,  and  child  was  ready  to  die  for  him. 

Some  of  his  most  distinguished  colleagues  of  the  Emanci- 
pation campaign  (notably  Kichard  Lalor  Sheil)  refused  to  fol- 

Catholic  family,  were  preserved  from  confiscation  throughout  the 
•whole  of  the  eighteenth  century  by  the  chivalrous  honor  and  fidelity 
of  the  Marquises  of  Ormonde,  who  were  Protestants.  These  held  the 
title-deeds  in  their  own  names  from  father  to  son  through  a  hundred 
years,  secretly  handing  over  the  rents,  until  the  Bryans  at  last  wero 
free  by  law  openly  to  hold  and  enjoy  their  broad  domains.  It  was 
in  this  way,  by  the  noble  conduct  of  individual  Protestants  in  an  age 
of  dreadful  edicts,  that  nearly  every  acre  of  ancient  Catholic  estates, 
of  any  that  survive  to  our  time,  was  saved  to  the  "  Popish"  proprie- 
tors. 

"  Priest-hunters  "  were  a  class  who  made  a  livelihood  by  earning 
the  rewards  for  hunting  up  concealed  priests.  The  western  and  north- 
ern counties  of  Ireland  abounded  thirty  years  ago  with  the  traditions 
of  these  priest-hunts.  In  my  own  native  district  every  tourist  to  Glen- 
gariffe  is  shown  the  Priest's  Leap  Mountain,  or  "  Leam-a-thagart." 
Here,  according  to  local  tradition,  which  had  no  more  pious  and  awe- 
struck believer  than  myself,  a  great  miracle  was  wrought.  A  holy 
priest,  who  had  long  eluded  the  search  of  those  who  sought  his  blood, 
was  riding  along  a  lonely  bridle-path  which  still  exists,  when  he  was 
suddenly  confronted  by  the  "  Shanna  soggarth."  "  Aha  !  your  rever- 
ence. I  have  you  at  last,"  laughed  the  pursuer.  But  the  priest,  taking 
out  his  breviary,  read  three  words  in  Latin,  and  struck  spurs  into  the 
horse,  which  sprang  through  the  air  and  never  came  down  till 
reached  Donemark  Wood,  six  miles  distant,  where  the  mark  of  his 
knees  and  of  the  priest's  thumb  and  four  fingers  are  still  to  be  seen  in 
the  rock  on  which  he  alighted.  Many  a  time  and  oft  I  have  seen  these 
proofs  of  the  story,  and  I  do  not  greatly  rejoice  in  the  day  when^I 
realized  that  the  rain-drip  from  an  aged  oak  had  worn  those  marks  in 
the  stone. 


40  NEW  IRELAND. 

low  him  into  the  Repeal  movement.  Others,  largely  from 
personal  devotion  as  well  as  political  conviction,  kept  their 
places  by  his  side.  It  was  tame  work,  however,  some  of  them 
protested,  compared  with  the  "old  times,"  when  after  every 
banquet  or  public  meeting  there  was  generally,  somehow,  an 
invitation  to  " meet "  some  one  in  "the  Fifteen  Acres,  be  the 
same  more  or  less."  O'Connell,  after  the  fatal  encounter  in 
which  he  shot  D'Esterre,  made  and  kept  a  solemn  vow  never 
more  to  send  or  accept  a  challenge, — a  circumstance  which 
had  a  powerful  influence  in  banishing  political  dueling  from 
Ireland.  This  non-combatant  style  of  agitation  was  viewed 
•with  great  disgust  by  such  men  as  the  0' Gorman  Mahon,  who 
had  been  "  out "  no  less  than  thirteen  times.  O'Connell  one 
day,  at  the  Repeal  Association,  delivered  a  speech  in  reply  to 
apolitical  attack  designed  to  bring  about  a  "message,"  in 
which  he  reaffirmed  his  resolution  to  accept  no  challenge 
during  the  rest  of  his  life  ;  making  at  the  same  time  some 
exceedingly  pious  observations  on  the  sinfulness  of  the  prac- 
tice he  had  relinquished.  "Mr.  Chairman,"  said  the  O'Gor- 
man  Mahon,  when  O'Connell  had  sat  down,  "  I  think  it  may 
be  useful  to  state  that  /  have  made  no  such  resolution  :  God 
forbid !  "  * 

*  About  three  years  ago  we  were  startled  in  Ireland  by  the  reap- 
pearance of  this  typical  veteran  of  the  Emancipation  and  Repeal  times. 
For  a  quarter  of  a  century  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  of  him  ;  when  lo  I 
his  tall,  soldierly  figure,  broad-shouldered  and  erect  as  an  uplifted 
lance, — with  snow-white  hair  copiously  flowing  over  his  shoulders, — 
appeared  like  a  vision  in  our  midst,  at  the  Home  Rule  Conference  of 
1873.  On  that  occasion  he  was  one  of  a  dozen  guests  dining  with  a 
leading  Home  Rule  member  of  Parliament, — two  Catholic  clergymen 
being  of  the  number.  Our  conversation  turned  on  those  strange  times 
when  a  man  was  liable  any  day  to  be  called  to  meet  death  for  some 
fancied  ground  of  challenge  in  a  political  speech,  and  especially  the 
number  of  occasions  on  which  our  friend  Colonel  the  O'Qorman  Mahon 
had  to  face  such  an  ordeal.  To  do  him  justice,  he  himself  was  rigidly 
reticent ;  seemed  not  to  relish  these  references  to  his  dueling  ex- 
periences at  all.  One  of  the  clergymen  thought  the  colonel's  feelings 


VCONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  41 

In  the  course  of  O'Connell's  career  there  first  appeared  in 
the  Irish  political  arena  a  figure,  an  element  of  force,  which 
more  than  any  other  has  excited  the  English  imagination, — 
"  the  Irish  priest  in  politics."  That  figure,  as  we  beheld  it 
some  thirty  years  ago,  will  henceforth  be  seen  no  more.  Not 
one  of  all  the  wondrous  changes  which  time  has  wrought 
marks  more  strongly  the  difference  between  the  old  Ireland 
and  the  new  than  the  altered  attitude,  position,  and  attri- 
butes of  the  priest  in  politics.  He  has  not  quitted  the  arena. 
No  hostile  action,  no  subsidence  of  confidence,  has  affected 
him.  But  he  stands  in  new — utterly  and  completely  new — 
relations,  politically  speaking,  toward  the  people.  Those 
who  have  looked  at  this  historical  character  from  a  distance 
have  strangely  misread  it.  To  Englishmen  the  despotic 
power  wielded  by  the  Irish  priest  in  politics — the  implicit 
way  in  which  the  people  obeyed  and  followed  him — could 
but  seem  a  woeful  spectacle  of  clerical  tyranny  on  the  one 
hand  and  slavish  subserviency  on  the  other.  But  that  power 
and  that  obedience  arose  out  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
the  time  ;  and  as  out  of  and  with  them  they  arose,  so  with 
them  they  have  passed  away. 

might  have  been  wounded  by  our  strong  censures  of  dueling,  and  he 
proceeded  to  soothe  matters  a  little : 

"  I  can  well  understand,  however,"  said  he,  "how,  in  a  time  when 
society  enforced  such  a  shocking  code,  a  man  might  feel,  as  it  were, 
compelled — left  no  choice— when  subjected  to  a  challenge.  Refusal 
meant  disgrace,  social  ostracism.  In  fact,  the  blame  attaching  to  a 
man  who,  not  sending  but  receiving  a  challenge,  went  out  under  this 
sense  of  compulsion,  was,  to  say  the  least " 

The  colonel  could  stand  this  no  longer.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he, 
rising  to  his  feet,  "  I  feel  bound  to  declare  on  my  honor  as  a  gentle- 
man that  though,  unfortunately  as  I  may  say,  I  have  been  many 
times  a  principal  in  a  hostile  meeting,  never  once  did  I  receive  a  chal- 
lenge. /  always  was  the  challenger  !  "  A  roar  of  laughter  at  the  dis- 
comfiture of  the  reverend  friend,  who  was,  as  he  thought,  suggesting 
a  charitable  exculpation  of  the  colonel,  hailed  the  resentful  disclaimer 
of  the  old  campaigner. 


42  NEW  IRELAND. 

When  O'Connell,  the  young,  daring,  duel-fighting,  elo- 
quent, and  fearless  lawyer,  took  up  the  cause  of  the  Catholic 
serfs,  timidity  or  selfishness  on  the  part  of  the  few  better- 
class  co-religionists  had  left  the  people,  so  to  speak,  derelict. 
The  abstract  justice  of  their  cause,  the  cruel  weight  of  their 
fetters,  had  indeed  won  for  them  the  sympathies  of  great  and 
noble  men  in  a  legislature  exclusively  Protestant ;  but  they 
were  talked  of  and  pleaded  for  very  much  as '  the  negroes 
were  talked  of  and  pleaded  for  by  Wilberforce  or  Horace 
Greeley.  Whether  they  really  were  or  were  not  men  and 
brothers  was  a  great  part  of  the  question.  What  ought  to 
be  done,  or  might  be  done,  for  them  was  constantly  debated. 
The  man  and  brother  arising  in  his  chains  and  stalking  into 
the  political  arena  to  do  something  for  himself  startled  every 
one  like  a  portentous  apparition. 

What  happened  then  was  exactly  what  would  have  hap- 
pened had  the  Irish  been  Baptists,  Presbyterians,  Methodists, 
or  episcopalian  Protestants  in  the  same  plight,  instead  of 
Catholics.  Usually,  even  in  a  country  where  education  and 
political  rights  are  widely  diffused,  the  middle  and  upper 
classes  become  the  political  leaders  of  the  people  around 
them  whose  national  and  religious  sympathies  are  more  or 
less  their  own.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  the  appearance 
of  the  clergyman  as  a  political  leader  in  a  special  and  promi- 
nent way  would,  very  naturally,  be  a  cause  for  wonder. 
But  this  was  not  the  case  with  the  Catholic  masses  in  Ire- 
land forty  years  ago.  No  identity  of  feeling,  political  or 
religious,  linked  them  and  the  gentry  class  in  a  community 
of  interest.  They  were  unlettered,  unenfranchised,  bereft 
of  the  natural  leaders  of  a  people.  In  every  parish,  how- 
ever, there  was  one  man  (and  in  many  only  one  man)  of 
their  own  way  of  thinking  who  had  education  and  ability, 
was  independent  of  Government,  and  was  devoted  to  them, 
— nay,  recommended  to  their  confidence  by  a  thousand  con- 
siderations. He  was  not  only  clergyman  and  pastor ;  he 
was  local  law-giver  and  arbitrator,  monitor  and  judge,  coun- 


&CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  43 

selor  and  adviser, — the  one  advocate  and  protector  whose 
every  energy  they  well  knew  would  readily  be  devoted  to 
their  weal.  If  haply  in  one  parish  out  of  ten  there  were  to 
be  found  a  Catholic  or  two  of  the  gentleman  class,  when  the 
novel  idea  of  the  people  moving  in  political  affairs  was  pro- 
pounded, these  propertied  few  cowered  in  alarm,  and  trem- 
bled lest  the  Government  should  be  angry.  The  priest  was 
the  one  man  whom  the  simple  and  unschooled  but  resolute 
peasant  felt  he  might  endow  with  an  unrestricted  proxy. 
Experience  soon  came  to  tell  him  that  by  implicitly  trusting 
and  obeying  this  political  proxy-holder,  rights  were  won  and 
disabilities  swept  away  in  the  devious  and  difficult  ways  of 
public  conflict.  The  priests  themselves,  who  at  first  very 
reluctantly  (and  most  often  despite  the  displeasure  of  their 
pusillanimous  bishops)  assumed  these  new  functions  and 
responsibilities,  began  to  grow  more  bold  and  confident 
under  the  incitements  and  encouragement  of  O'Connell. 
At  length  they  became  the  agency  through  which  he  or- 
ganized and  moved  the  whole  kingdom.  They  thought  for 
their  flocks  ;  acted  and  spoke  for  them  ;  told  them  what  to 
do,  and  it  was  done ;  how  to  vote,  and  so  they  voted  ;  who 
in  the  big  world  outside  was  their  foe,  and  him  they  hated  ; 
who  their  friend,  and  him  they  blessed. 

Enormous  was  the  power  thus  thrown  into  the  hands  of 
the  Irish  priests.  The  result  certainly  was  not  all  unmixed 
good.  Abuses  inevitably  came.  In  some  cases,  few  indeed, 
the  possession  of  such  authority  led  to  arrogance  and  despot- 
ism. In  others  its  exercise  was  so  mingled  with  what  was 
of  spiritual  character,  that  evils  of  no  small  magnitude 
arose  to  the  view  of  thoughtful  politicians  looking  on.  Yet 
must  impartial  judgment  declare  that  never  in  political 
affairs  was  influence  so  great,  on  the  whole,  so  unselfishly 
and  so  faithfully  used  in  the  interests  of  those  for  whom  it 
was  possessed.  It  was  a  prerogative  that  could  only  have 
arisen  under  abnormal  conditions  of  society ;  a  power  that 
could  not  be  coexistent  with  widely-diffused  education  and 


44  NEW  IRELAND. 

self-reliant  political  action  on  the  part  of  the  people.  Ne- 
cessity called  it  forth  ;  with  necessity  it  disappeared. 

Under  such  circumstances,  sustained  by  such  allies,  O'Con- 
nell,  the  object  of  popular  worship  and  aristocratic  aversion, 
pushed  on  his  agitation.  The  movement,  as  he  shaped  and 
guided  it,  must  inevitably  have  fallen  with  his  own  life,  so 
large  a  part  of  it  was  he.  His  policy  was  to  maintain  in 
Ireland  a  state  of  things  which  was  neither  peace  nor  war  ; 
that  balked  the  commander-in-chief  and  harassed  the  prime 
minister.  Strange  to  say,  though  rousing  the  people  to  the 
utmost  pitch  of  excitement,  the  dominant  anxiety  of  his 
soul  was  to  keep  them  out  of  the  meshes  of  the  law, — to 
avert  collision,  so  that  he,  their  leader,  might  fight  the  law 
within  the  law.  By  such  tactics  he  had  won  Emancipation  ; 
by  a  repetition  of  them  he  hoped  to  carry  Repeal.  But  the 
strain  was  too  great  on  the  energies  of  a  nation  to  keep  up  a 
tension  so  severe  as  that  which  this  policy  involved.  It  was 
politics  at  high  pressure,  an  excitement  difficult  to  be  main- 
tained. Irishmen  had  not  yet  learned  how  much  superior 
to  the  exertion  of  enthusiasm  is  the  less  demonstrative  but 
more  telling  strength  of  patient  plodding  perseverance. 

O'Connell  again  and  again  promised  his  followers  success 
— absolute  and  infallible  success — on  the  sole  condition  of 
obeying  his  directions,  and,  in  an  hour  of  weakness  or  rash- 
ness, he  announced  that  " within  six  months"  Eepeal  would 
be  won.  In  that  moment  it  was  all  over  with  O'Connell  and 
Eepeal.  The  Government  needed  but  to  tide  over  a  year  or 
two,  and  the  great  tribune  was  discredited,  the  spell  of  his 
influence  broken.  But  they  did  more.  They  boldly  assumed 
the  offensive,  resorting  to  some  steps  which  would  hardly  be 
tolerated  by  public  opinion  in  our  time.  On  the  threshold 
of  the  movement  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  day  announced 
that  no  Repealer  would  be  appointed  to  Government  situa- 
tions. .  'Twas  a  keen  thrust  this,  but  not  mortal :  it  had  no 
very  appreciable  effect.  Later  on,  however,  came  the  extreme 
course  of  summarily  dismissing  from  the  commission  of  the 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  45 

peace  every  county  magistrate  who  identified  himself  in  any 
way  with  Repeal  politics.  To  parry  this  blow,  O'Connell  set 
up  popular  arbitration  courts  all  over  the  kingdom,  leaving 
the  petty  sessions  bench  "high  and  dry."  The  Government 
announced  that  they  were  determined  to  put  down  Eepeal ; 
O'Connell  answered  by  defying  them.  He  called  a  monster 
meeting  to  petition  the  Queen  on  the  plains  of  Clontarf,  mem- 
orable as  the  site  of  the  great  battle  in  which  Ard-Ki  Brian  I. 
overthrew  the  Danish  power  in  1014.  The  Government,  in 
the  dusk  of  the  evening  preceding  the  appointed  day,  issued  a 
proclamation  forbidding  the  assemblage,  and  the  hour  of 
meeting  found  the  city  occupied  by  horse,  foot,  and  artillery. 
By  strenuous  exertions  the  Kepeal  leader  and  his  friends  were 
able,  during  the  night  and  morning,  to  intercept  the  tens  of 
thousands  of  people  from  the  surrounding  counties  marching 
to  the  spot,  where,  had  they  arrived,  a  collision  was  inevi- 
table. O'Connell  charged  the  executive  with  designing  a 
Peterloo  on  a  monster  scale,  and  threatened  to  impeach  Peel, 
Wellington,  and  Earl  de  Grey.  They  retorted  by  dealing 
him  a  still  heavier  blow.  They  arrested  him  and  some  of  his 
principal  associates — his  son,  John  O'Connell  ;  Charles  Ga- 
van  Duffy,  of  the  Nation;  Dr.  Gray,  of  the  Freeman  ;  Tom 
Steele ;  T.  M.  Kay  ;  R.  Barrett,  of  the  Pilot ;  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Tyrrell,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tierney — on  a  charge  of  seditious 
conspiracy.  Eighteen  hundred  and  forty-four — the  "  Repeal 
year,"  as  O'Connell,  six  months  before,  boastfully  said  it 
should  be  called — found  the  great  tribune  a  prisoner  in 
Richmond  jail. 

In  selecting  the  jury  at  his  trial,  it  was  discovered  that 
several  leaves  or  slips  of  the  long  panel  list  had  been  lost,  the 
Crown  lawyers  said ;  stolen,  the  traversers  declared.  The 
Attorney-General  contended  that  it  made  no  great  matter  ; 
there  were  names  enough  to  go  on  with.  The  court  agreed 
with  him  :  the  trial  proceeded,  the  accused  were  found  guilty 
and  sentenced  to  various  fines  and  terms  of  imprisonment. 
A  writ  of  error  was  carried  to  the  House  of  Lords  mainly 


46  NEW  IRELAND. 

on  the  point  as  to  the  lost  or  stolen  slips  of  the  jury  list. 
What  the  Irish  judges  solemnly  decided  to  be  trivial  and  im- 
material the  law-lords  at  Westminster  declared  to  be  all- 
important  and  of  the  vital  essence  of  trial  by  jury.  "  Were 
such  things  to  be  allowed,"  Lord  Denman  said,  "  trial  by  jury 
would  become  a  mockery,  a  delusion,  and  a  snare."  The 
conviction  was  quashed,  and  O'Connell  and  his  fellow- 
prisoners  were  borne  from  prison  in  a  triumphal  procession 
eclipsing  any  public  demonstration  ever  previously  seen  in 
Ireland. 

So  much  merely  epitomizes  the  history  of  that  eventful 
time.  Behind  and  alongside  of  all  this,  however,  there  were 
causes  and  influences  at  work  which  of  themselves  were  cer- 
tain to  eventuate  in  important  political  changes.  By  1846  a 
transition  period  had  dawned  in  Irish  politics.  Already  the 
schools  and  the  newspapers  were  beginning  to  make  them- 
selves felt.  O'Connell  became  aware  that  there  was  growing 
up  around  him  a  new  generation,  who  chafed  under  the  be- 
nevolent despotism  of  his  leadership,  and  who  objected  to  his 
canon  of  "implicit  obedience,"  unless  they  had  first  rea- 
soned out  matters.  He  was  now  an  old  man,  no  longer  the 
dashing,  high-spirited  young  Kerryman  of  Emancipation 
days  ;  he  trembled  for  the  possible  indiscretions  of  these  fiery 
orators  and  seditiously  patriotic  poets  who  were  rapidly  in- 
fusing their  bold  spirit  into  the  multitude.  In  his  own  hot 
youth  he  could  praise  Tell  and  Hofer,  and  erstwhile  glow 
with  admiration  for  the  three  hundred  at  Thermopylae. 
But,  sore  wounded  by  the  failure  of  his  promises,  the  defeat 
of  his  policy,  and  oppressed  with  gloomy  misgivings  as  to  the 
possibility  of  averting  much  longer  a  collision  between  the 
people  and  the  Government,  he  could  not  endure  these  things 
now.  He  called  the  young  orators  and  poets  the  "war 
party,"  but  he  did  them  wrong.  Not  one  of  them,  at  that 
date,  dreamt  of  war  or  a  resort  to  physical  force.  Solicitous 
for  the  legal  safety  of  the  Eepeal  Association,  he  drew  up 
test  resolutions,  which  impliedly,  if  not  expressly,  con-? 


VCONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  47 

demned  as  wrongful  any  and  every  effort,  in  any  age  or 
time,  clime  or  country,  to  redress  political  wrongs  by  armed 
resort.  These  resolutions  were  aimed  at  the  men  already 
known  as  the  "  Young  Ireland "  party,  intellectually  the 
flower  of  the  Repeal  movement, — men  whose  genius 
adorned,  and  whose  labors  elevated  and  refined,  Irish  poli- 
tics. They  offered  readily  to  subscribe  such  resolutions  as 
applied  to  their  own  aims  and  purposes  ;  but  they  refused, 
they  said,  to  stigmatize  the  men  of  other  times  and  other 
struggles.  With  this  O'Connell  would  not  be  content,  and 
an  expulsion  or  secession,  destined  to  have  enduring  effects 
on  Irish  politics,  rent  the  Repeal  Association  in  twain. 

To  the  superficial  view  of  most  English  politicians  all  this 
was  merely  an  "Irish  row,"  a  political  squabble.  In  like 
events  occurring  in  Belgium  or  Italy  or  France  the  philos- 
ophy of  politics  would  be  studied.  The  supreme  advantages 
which  sometimes  indubitably  attend  the  concentration  of 
political  power  and  authority  in  the  hands  of  one  man  are 
purchased  by  heavy  hazards  and  penalties.  When  age  has 
weakened  the  master-mind,  dissidence  becomes  more  and 
more  intolerable,  adulation  more  and  more  pleasing  in  his 
ears.  Obsequiousness  is  called  fidelity ;  honest  independence 
is  suspected  as  disloyalty.  The  grand  old  tribune  of  the 
Irish  people,  failing  physically  and  mentally,  became  the 
sport  of  whispered  jealousies  and  suspicions.  Accustomed 
to  wield  unquestioned  authority  and  to  receive  implicit  obe- 
dience, he  could  see,  under  the  inspirations  then  swaying 
him,  in  the  disciples  of  the  new  school  of  thought  merely  so 
many  plotting  aspirants  envious  of  his  throne. 

But  apart  from  all  this  a  calamity  was  now  at  hand  be- 
neath which  everything  was  to  go  down.  The  famine  of 
184G-47  swept  the  land  like  a  storm  of  destruction.  At 
such  a  moment  political  agitation  or  political  organization 
would  be  as  much  out  of  place  as  among  the  terrified  occu- 
pants of  a  raft  or  the  victims  in  a  house  on  fire.  The  wild 
scramble  for  life,  for  mere  existence,  overmastered  every 


48  NEW  IRELAND. 

other  purpose.  It  seemed  as  if  society  would  be  resolved 
into  its  first  elements.  Aghast,  appalled,  O'Connell  gazed 
on  the  ruin  of  the  cause, — the  destruction  of  the  people  he 
had  given  his  life  to  serve.  In  the  agony  of  his  soul  he 
flung  himself  into  the  one  supreme  effort  to  save  them. 
No  more  he  thundered  defiance.  He  wept,  he  prayed,  he 
cried  aloud,  "  0  God  !  thy  faithful  people  perish  ! "  The 
struggle  was  too  much.  The  great  heart  and  the  grand  brain 
gave  way.  Mournfully,  despairingly  the  old  man  sank  into 
the  tomb.  He  had  lived  too  long ;  he  had  seen  the  wreck  of 
all  he  loved.  To  Rome,  to  Rome  he  would  bend  his  way ;  he 
would  see  the  successor  of  St.  Peter  and  visit  the  shrines 
of  the  apostles  before  he  might  die.  Not  so  God  willed 
that  it  should  be.  At  "Genoa  the  Superb"  he  halted 
on  the  way;  "to  rest  a  little,"  he  said.  The  attendants 
saw  that  his  great  rest  was  at  hand.  On  the  15th  of  May, 
1847,  all  was  over  :  the  "Irish  Libei'ator"  was  no  more. 

Gloomy  ending  to  a  great  career  !  Concurrence  of  fatalities  I 
One  now  can  see  that  even  before  the  first  shadow  of  famine 
fell  upon  the  scene  a  catastrophe  was  inevitable.  The  great 
organization  that  so  largely  embodied  the  national  hopes  and 
purposes  was  virtually  at  an  end.  After  the  Young  Ire- 
land secession  the  Government  had  need  no  more  to  concern 
itself  with  its  once  formidable  foe.  O'Connell's  power  in  the 
future  was  broken.  But  nothing  could  take  from  his  brow 
the  laurels  of  the  past.  He  had  played  his  part ;  he  had  no- 
bly done  his  allotted  work.  "  I  ought  to  have  fallen  at  Wa- 
terloo," said  Napoleon,  regretfully,  at  St.  Helena.  O'Con- 
nell ought  to  have  died  in  "  Twenty-nine,"  or  perhaps  on  the 
great  day  of  Tara,  in  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-three. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  EIBBON  CONFEDEBACY. 

THROUGHOUT  the  half-century  extending  from  1820  to 
1870,  a  secret  oath-bound  agrarian  confederacy,  known  as 
the  "  Ribbon  Society  "  was  the  constant  affliction  and  re- 
curring terror  of  the  landed  classes  of  Ireland.  The  Vehm- 
gericht  itself  was  not  more  dreaded.  The  Mania  did  not 
more  mysteriously  baffle  and  defy  suppression.  The  lord  in 
his  castle,  the  peasant  in  his  hut,  were  alike  made  to  feel  the 
existence  of  its  hateful  power. 

I  think  it  can  be  shown  that  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years — ever  since  the  commencement  of  the  last  century — 
secret  agrarian  confederacies  of  one  sort  or  another  have  ex- 
isted in  Ireland,  all  having  their  source  and  origin  in  the 
miseries  and  feuds  incidental  to  a  vicious  land  system.  Few 
of  them,  however,  attained  to  the  dimensions  of  the  Ribbon 
Conspiracy  ;  none  of  them  lived  so  long. 

It  is  assuredly  strange — indeed,  almost  incredible— that 
although  the  existence  of  this  organization  was,  in  a  general 
way,  as  well  and  as  widely  known  as  the  fact  that  Queen 
Victoria  reigned,  or  that  Daniel  O'Connell  was  once  a  living 
man,  although  the  story  of  its  crimes  has  thrilled  judge  and 
jury,  and  parliamentary  committees  have  filled  ponderous 
blue  books  with  evidence  of  its  proceedings,  there  is  to  this 
hour  the  widest  conflict  of  assertion  and  conclusion  as  to 
what  exactly  were  its  real  aims,  its  origin,  structure,  charac- 
ter, and  purpose. 

The  most  prevalent  idea  is  that  it  related  solely  or  mainly 
to  transactions  in  land,  and  was  "non-political,"  that  is,  had 
3  49 


50  NEW  IRELAND. 

no  design  against  the  Government ;  but  this  impression  can 
be  the  result  of  no  very  special  knowledge  or  investigation 
of  the  subject.  Whatever  Eibbonism  developed  into  subse- 
quently, it  is  the  fact  that  at  an  early  stage  it  was  held  out 
to  be  "political"  in  the  sense  above  referred  to.  It  would, 
perhaps,  be  more  correct  to  say  that  in  some  parts  of  Ire- 
land, or  at  some  period  of  its  existence,  it  professed  to  be  an 
organization  of  that  character  ;  for  I  long  ago  satisfied  my- 
self that  the  Eibbonism  of  one  period  was  not  the  Kibbonism 
of  another, — that  the  version  of  its  aims  and  character  prev- 
alent among  its  own  members  in  one  county  or  district  dif- 
fered widely  from  that  existing  elsewhere.  In  Ulster  it 
professed  to  be  a  defensive  or  retaliatory  league  against 
Orangeism.  In  Munster  it  was  at  first  a  combination  against 
tithe-proctors.  In  Connaught  it  was  an  organization  against 
rack-renting  and  evictions.  In  Leinster  it  often  was  mere 
trade-unionism,  dictating  by  its  mandates  and  enforcing 
by  its  vengeance  the  employment  or  dismissal  of  workmen, 
stewards,  and  even  domestics.  This  latter  phase  generally 
preceded  the  disappearance  of  the  system  in  a  particular 
locality,  and  was  evidently  the  lowest  and  basest  form  to 
which  it  sank  or  rotted  in  decay.  Everywhere  and  at  all  times 
Kibbonism  had,  no  doubt,  certain  general  forms  or  features 
in  common.  Some  of  these  were  very  remarkable.  In  the 
first  place,  although  at  one  time,  and  in  some  localities,  it 
affected  to  be  a  political  organization  for  national  designs, 
there  cannot  be  found  in  the  records  of  its  proceedings 
evidence  or  trace  of  participation  in  them  by  any  person  of 
social  position  or  education  above  a  very  humble  grade  ;  and 
T  need  hardly  remark  that  at  no  period  of  Irish  history  could 
this  be  said  of  really  political  conspiracies.  The  Eibbon 
Society  seems  to  have  been  wholly  confined  to  small  farmers, 
cottiers,  laborers,  and,  in  the  towns,  petty  shop-keepers, 
in  whose  houses  the  "  lodges "  were  held.  Its  documents, 
correspondence,  rules,  passwords,  and  addresses  betray  in 
most  instances  the  grossest  illiteracy ;  although  the  construe- 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  51 

tion  and  management  of  the  organization  exhibited  much 
cleverness,  activity,  vigilance,  and  resource.  The  next  sin- 
gular fact  is  that  although  from  the  inception,  or  first 
appearance,  of  Kibbonism  the  Catholic  clergy  waged  a  deter- 
mined war  upon  it, — denouncing  it  from  the  altar,  and 
going  so  far  as  to  refuse  the  sacrament  to  its  adherents, — 
the  society  was  exclusively  Catholic.  Under  no  circum- 
stances would  a  Protestant  be  admitted  to  membership  ;  nay, 
any  person  nearly  related  to,  or  connected  with,  a  Protestant 
was  disqualified.  This  is  about  the  only  feature  which 
seems  to  have  been  universally  prevalent  and  invincibly  re- 
tained in  the  hundred  forms  of  Irish  Kibbonism.  The  fact 
has,  however,  led  to  some  utterly  erroneous  ideas  as  to  the 
alleged  sanguinary  sectarian  designs  of  the  organization,  and 
has  encouraged  the  concoction  of  some  rather  stupidly 
forged  "  Kibbon  oaths."  One  of  these  was  cited  by  Mr. 
Monk,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  the  18th  of  March, 
1871,  and  ran  as  follows : 

"  By  virtue  of  the  oath  I  have  taken  I  will  aid  and  assist  with  all 
my  mind  and  strength,  when  called  upon,  to  massacre  Protestants  and 
cut  away  heretics,  burn  British  churches,  and  abolish  Protestant 
kings  and  princes,  and  all  others  except  the  Church  of  Borne  and  this 
system.  .  .  .  And  I  also  feel  bound  to  believe  that  there  is  no 
absolution  to  be  had  from  the  Pope  of  Rome  or  any  other  authority 
belonging  to  that  Church,  or  that  which  is  to  come,  from  any  breach  of 
this  test." 

The  spuriousness  of  this  production  was  instantly  per- 
ceived and  pointed  out  in  Ireland.  The  person  who  com- 
posed it  was  not  only  not  a  Catholic  (as  a  Kibbonman  would 
necessarily  have  been),  but  he  was  ignorant  of  the  way  in 
which  Catholics  invariably  refer  to  topics  touched  on  in  the 
alleged  oath.  They  never  speak  or  write  of  their  own 
Church  as  "that"  Church  ;  and  the  "Pope  of  Rome"  is  a 
Protestant,  not  a  Catholic,  phrase  in  Ireland.  An  Irish  peas- 
ant would  scarcely  know  what  was  meant  by  a  "  British 
church."  Indeed,  the  Irish  Chief  Secretary  (Lord  Harting- 


62  NEW  IRELAND. 

ton)  admitted  that  though  the  police  had  found  a  copy  of 
such  an  oath  in  a  house  near  Mullingar,  its  authenticity  was 
not  accepted  in  Dublin  Castle. 

Of  genuine  Ribbon  oaths — those  the  use  of  which  in  the 
lodges  was  actually  deposed  to — there  is  a  confusing  plenty ; 
and  a  contrast  of  these  will  amply  corroborate  my  statement 
that  the  real  origin,  character,  and  aims  of  the  combination 
have  baffled  discovery,  or  that  there  were  various  Ribbon  sys- 
tems, radically  differing  one  from  another.  Between  1820 
and  1870  there  have  been  put  in  evidence,  or  sworn  to  in 
"informations"  more  than  a  score  of  irreconcilable  Ribbon 
oaths.  Some,  for  instance,  set  out  by  pledging  the  most  de- 
voted fealty  to  the  Queen  ;  others  by  swearing  allegiance  to 
"  Daniel  O'Connell,  real  King  of  Ireland,  and  his  eldest  son, 
Maurice  O'Connell,  our  Chief  Commander."  Of  these  two 
oaths,  or  classes  of  oaths,  various  versions  have  been  given, 
not  merely  by  "  approvers "  in  the  witness-box,  but  from 
written  documents  seized  at  lodge-meetings.  The  explana- 
tion of  all  this  very  probably  is  that  the  local  officials  of  the 
society  in  many  places  added  some  words  of  their  own.  The 
general  features  of  the  oath  seemed  to  be  to  keep  the  secrets 
of  the  society ;  implicit  obedience  to  its  officers ;  readiness  to 
assemble  and  execute  commands  "at  two  hours'  notice;" 
pledge  to  assist  any  fellow-member  being  beaten  or  ill  treated. 
In  several  versions  the  oath  contained  a  clause  binding  the 
members  "never  to  drink  to  excess  so  as  to  endanger  the  di- 
vulging of  secrets." 

Not  long  since  I  was  shown  a  printed  report  (now,  I  be- 
lieve, very  rare)  of  the  trial  in  Dublin  in  1840  of  Richard 
Jones,  the  first  high  officer — indeed,  I  believe,  the  first  mem- 
ber— of  the  Ribbon  Society  whom  the  Government  were  able 
to  convict,  after  nearly  twenty  years  of  fruitless  endeavors  to 
grapple  with  the  system.  In  this  publication  frequent  refer- 
ence is  made  to  a  book  found  on  the  prisoner,  in  which  he 
had  copied  in  short-hand  characters  most  of  his  secret  corre- 
spondence with  the  lodge  and  lodge-officers,  as  well  as  the 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  53 

signs,  passwords,  rules,  and  regulations  of  the  society.  The 
Government  did  not  divulge  on  the  trial  all  that  the  book 
contained ;  but  they  caused  to  be  executed  for  their  private 
information  a  full  copy  of  its  contents,  probably  the  most 
complete  and  authentic  revelation  they  were  able  to  obtain, 
before  or  since,  of  the  character,  designs,  and  transactions  of 
the  Ribbon  Society.  Government  documents  are  not  always 
carefully  kept.  That  identical  manuscript  translation  of 
Jones's  secret  book  is  this  moment  in  my  possession.* 

Jones  was  clerk  to  a  sales-master  in  Smithfield  Market, 
Dublin,  and  filled  the  office  of  general  secretary  for  Ireland 
in  the  Ribbon  system.  In  truth  he  appears  to  have  been 
the  ruling  spirit  of  the  society.  A  perusal  of  this  corre- 
spondence certainly  shows  that  Ribbonism  was  then  being 
established  with  political  aims  or  pretensions.  Jones,  who, 
though  a  man  of  humble  education,  certainly  possessed  con- 
siderable ability  and  force  of  character,  appears  on  the  face 
of  these  communications  to  have  been  nothing  of  the  vulgar 
and  venal  villain  which  most  Ribbon  organizers  are  assumed 
to  have  been.  From  first  to  last  he  is  energetically  repress- 
ing discords,  counseling  union,  and  directing  the  expulsion 
of  bad  and  doubtful  characters.  I  find  no  trace  of  selfish 
gain  or  profit  to  himself — quite  the  contrary — in  the  whole 
story ;  while  as  to  the  aims  of  the  confederacy,  though  on 
this  point  there  is  wondrous  vagueness  and  confusion,  these 
letters  are  full  of  allusions  essentially  political  in  their  char- 
acter. To  "free  Ireland," — to  "liberate  our  country," — 
to  "unite  all  Roman  Catholics,"  are  again  and  again  men- 
tioned, incidentally,  as  the  great  objects  of  the  society.  On 
the  24th  of  April,  1838,  Jones,  writing  to  an  official  of  the 
society  in  England,  says,  "  Send  us  word  immediately  what 
is  the  determination  of  the  friends  belonging  to  the  Hiber- 
nians in  Liverpool.  If  they  act  for  the  welfare  of  their 

*  I  believe  that  documents  of  even  a  much  more  startling  character 
have  been  dispersed  through  the  waste-paper  shops  of  Dublin  since  the 
death  of  a  well-known  Castle  official  a  few  years  ago. 


54  NEW  IRELAND. 

native  land  they  will  join  with  those  persons  whose  wish  it 
is  to  see  their  native  land  free.  The  motto  of  every  honest 
Irishman  should  be,  'Unite  and  free  your  native  land.'" 
Nay,  strange  to  say,  I  find  in  one  of  Jones's  letters  not  read 
on  the  trial  an  observation  which  sounds  curiously  at  the 
present  moment.  "  The  hour  of  England's  difficulty  is  at 
hand ;  "  he  tells  them  :  "the  Eussian  bear  is  drawing  near 
to  her  in  India."  Again,  on  the  21st  of  May,  1838,  Andrew 
Dardis  and  Eichard  Jones,  the  grand  master  and  grand  sec- 
retary, write  to  a  lodge-master  in  the  country,  "  We  are  happy 
to  hear  that  the  men  of  your  county  that  were  heretofore  op- 
posed to  the  interests  of  our  native  land  are  to  meet  you  on 
the  27th  for  the  purpose  of  causing  unity  of  feeling."  In 
fine,  it  is  abundantly  clear  that,  in  some  hazy  general  way, 
the  Eibbonmen  of  this  period  were  induced  to  believe  that 
the  organization  was  a  political  conspiracy  against  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  not  the  mere  agrarian  combination  which  it 
subsequently  proved  to  be. 

The  name  "Eibbon"  Society  was  not  attached  to  it  until 
about  1826.  It  was  previously  known  as  "Liberty  Men  ;" 
the  "  Eeligious  Liberty  System ; "  the  "  United  Sons  of  Irish 
Freedom ; "  "Sons  of  the  Shamrock  ; "  and  by  other  names. 
From  an  early  period  there  were  rival  Eibbon  organizations 
bitterly  opposing  one  another;  and  Jones's  great  concern 
seems  to  have  been  to  put  down  this  contention  and  effect  a 
fusion. 

The  Government  were  fairly  perplexed  by  the  conflicting 
accounts  sent  in  from  time  to  time  by  the  magistrates  and 
police  as  to  the  society.  Most  of  all  were  they  bewildered 
by  the  stories  supplied  by  their  paid  agents  or  "informers  " 
in  the  ranks  of  the  organization.  These  latter  were  numer- 
ous enough,  and  their  information,  estimated  as  to  quantity, 
was  well  worth  the  pay  given  for  it ;  but  the  Government 
declared  that  in  scarcely  a  single  case  or  a  single  particular 
were  they  able  to  place  any  reliance  on  these  stories.  The 
informants  seem  to  have  known  very  little  that  could  be 


TEE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  55 

made  evidence,  but  to  have  invented  a  great  deal.  Mr. 
Barnes,  a  stipendiary  magistrate  greatly  trusted  by  the  Gov- 
ernment, writes  as  follows  to  the  Chief  Secretary  as  to  one 
of  these  informants,  whose  stories  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
wished  him  to  probe  : 

"  This  man  lias  been  known  to  me  since  the  month  of  October  last; 
and  from  my  knowledge  of  him  I  have  no  hesitation  in  designating  him 
one  of  the  most  consummate  and  specious  villains  in  all  Ireland.  He 
was  formerly  a  policeman  and  discharged  for  misconduct ;  a  Protes- 
tant, and  turned  to  mass  for  the  purpose,  as  he  stated  to  me,  of  becom- 
ing a  Ribbonman  and  betraying  their  secrets  ;  was  in  my  employment 
between  four  and  five  months  as  a  secret  agent  to  get  me  information; 
received  in  that  time  upward  of  fifteen  pounds  from  me,  and  ended 
our  connection  by  stating,  and  offering  to  swear  to  his  statement,  that 
he  himself  was  one  of  the  party  who  murdered  Morrison  [Lord  Lor- 
ton's  bailiff],  tendering  himself  to  me  as  an  approver,  and  claiming 
the  '  reward  and  pardon '  offered  by  the  proclamation.  Knowing  this 
statement  to  be  false,  I  determined  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with 
the  fellow,  and  accordingly  ceased  all  communication  with  him." 

Other  magistrates  were  not  quite  so  strait-laced  as  Mr. 
Barnes,  and  this  "  consummate  and  specious  villain  "  found 
ready  employment  elsewhere  as  a  police  agent  for  the  "  de- 
tection "  of  Kibbonism.  In  this  process  there  is  but  too  much 
reason  to  conclude  that  he  pursued  a  course  unfortunately 
not  rare  in  connection  with  secret  associations  in  Ireland, — 
namely,  that  he  enrolled  members  and  organized  or  perpe- 
trated outrages  himself,  then  "divulged"  to  the  authori- 
ties, and  swore  to  conviction  against  his  dupes  and  accom- 
plices.* 

*  Mr.  Paucett,  Provost  of  Sligo,  writes  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of 
one  of  these  informants  whom  he  was  asked  to  report  upon  privately, 
"  He  is  a  doubtful  sort  of  person,  on  whose  uncorroborated  testimony 
no  reliance  should  be  placed  ;  and  it  appears  to  me  his  object  is  to  get 
or  earn  money  by  his  information."  Mr.  Brownrigg,  provincial  inspec- 
tor of  constabulary,  reporting  another  of  them  says,  "He  is  a  man  of 
very  bad  character."  Of  yet  another,  "  I  have  been  informed  by  per- 
sons on  whom  reliance  can  be  placed  that  he  is  a  man  of  the  very 


5G  NEW  IRELAND. 

A  Mr.  Hill  Rowan,  stipendiary  magistrate,  who  seems  to 
have  made  the  discovery  of  Kibbonism  his  special  labor,  sup- 
plied the  most  copious  information  on  the  subject.  In  many 
respects  he  was,  clearly,  over-credulous.  Even  the  Govern- 
ment considered  him  given  to  exaggeration  ;  yet  his  revela- 
tions no  doubt  contained  a  great  deal  of  truth.  According 
to  him,  the  society  was  the  "  Society  of  Confidential  Ribbon- 
men."  He  gravely  narrates  how  one  of  his  informants — no 
doubt  belonging  to  the  class  above  referred  to — testified  that 
it  was  first  formed  by  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  in  1798  ; 
that  "its  present  objects  were  to  dethrone  the  Queen  ;  to 
place  Daniel  O'Connell,  the  member  of  Parliament  for  Dub- 
lin, as  Catholic  king  of  Ireland  in  her  stead  ;  to  put  down 
and  destroy  the  Protestant  religion  in  Ireland ;  and  to  re- 
store the  forfeited  estates  that  were  usurped  by  Oliver  Crom- 
well, a  list  of  which  is  kept  by  the  Catholic  priests,  to  their 
owners."  The  society  extended  all  over  Ireland,  and  was 
governed  by  a  body  called  the  "  Grand  Ribband  Lodge  of 
Ireland,"  this  body  being  composed  of  representatives  of  the 
different  county  organizations.  Quarterly  returns  of  the 
number  of  members  were  made  by  every  parish.  Over  each 
parish  there  was  a  "  Parochial  Committee  "  of  twelve,  includ- 
ing the  "  Parish  Master."  A  delegate  from  each  such  com- 
mittee in  a  barony  formed  the  "Baronial  Lodge."  All 
orders  of  the  society  were  to  be  obeyed  under  penalty  of 
death.  The  members  in  each  county  were  known  to  each 
other  by  signs  and  passwords,  which  were  issued  by  the  grand 
lodge  every  month,  but  changed  as  often  as  the  existing  or 
current  passes  ( "  goods  "  they  were  called)  might  be  discovered 
by  the  police.  There  were  salutation  phrases  and  "  quarrel- 
ing words  ; "  that  is,  words  which  two  men  engaged  in  strife 

worst  character."  Of  another  the  stipendiary  magistrate  (Mr.  O'Brien) 
says,  "Mr.  Jones  admitted  there  could  not  be  any  use  made  of  his 
evidence.  Mr.  Brownrigg  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  not 
telling  one  word  of  truth,  but  that  his  object  was  to  get  money."  Nu- 
merous such  cases  might  be  cited. 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDEEACT.  57 

might  use  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  not  "brethren,'* 
and  so  bound  to  desist.  Some  of  these  grips  and  passwords 
ran  as  follows : 

(For  October.) 

Observation.  The  winter  is  approaching. 

Reply.  It  is  time  to  expect  it. 

0.  Our  foe  is  found  out. 

R.  Our  guardians  are  watchful. 

(At  night.) 

0.  The  night  is  sharp. 
R.  It  is  time  to  expect  it. 

(Quarreling.) 
0.  You  make  a  mistake. 
B.  I  am  sorry  for  it. 

(Sign.) 

The  right  hand  to  the  right  knee. 
The  left  thumb  in  the  breeches-pocket. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  opening  observation  is  always  of 
a  harmless  commonplace  nature,  which  if  addressed  to  a  stran- 
ger could  occasion  no  suspicion.  "The  winter  is  approach- 
ing "  is  a  remark  not  out  of  course  in  October.  If  the  im- 
mediate response  is,  "  It  is  time  to  expect  it,"  the  first  speaker 
has  reason  to  think  he  is  talking  to  a  brother  Bibbonman. 
To  make  sure,  he  proceeds  with  a  remark  not  likely  to  be 
understood  unless  by  a  fellow-member  :  "  Our  foe  is  found 
out. "  A  reply  declaring  that  "  Our  guardians  are  watchful " 
establishes  brotherhood  between  the  parties.  The  "  quarrel- 
ing words  "  are  similarly  explained.  Here  are  other  forms  : 

0.  The  days  are  getting  long. 

R.  The  life  of  man  is  getting  short. 

0.  Have  you  got  any  news  ? 

R.  They  are  doing  well  in  Canada.* 

*  The  Canadian  rebellion  of  M.  Papineau  was  proceeding  at  the 
time. 

3* 


68  NEW  IRELAND. 

(Quarreling.) 

0.  Don't  be  fond  of  quarreling. 
E.  By  no  means. 

Even  at  that  time,  forty  years  ago,  Russia  figured  so  largely 
in  public  politics  as  to  find  a  place  in  these  passwords  : 

0.  What  is  your  opinion  of  the  times  ? 
S.  I  think  the  markets  are  on  a  rise. 
0.  Foreign  war  is  the  cause  of  it. 
J2.  It's  the  Russians'  wish  to  tyrannize. 
May  the  sons  of  Erin  wherever  they  be 
Continue  ever  in  loyalty. 

(Night-word.) 

Q.  What  is  the  age  of  the  moon? 
A.  Really  I  don't  know. 

(Sign.) 

Right  hand  rubbed  across  the  forehead.  To  be  answered  by  the  left 
hand  down  the  pocket. 

The  opening  observation  was,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  inva- 
riably harmless,  and  skillfully  referred  to  some  passing  topic. 
Thus  the  troubles  of  the  Melbourne  ministry  are  brought  in  : 

0.  What  do  you  think  of  the  Government  ? 

E.  They  are  much  divided. 

O.  May  Patrick's  sons  all  persevere 

It.  To  gain  the  rights  of  Granu  Aile.* 

Down  to  quite  a  recent  period  it  was  not  unusual  for  per- 
sons in  a  rank  of  life  far  above  the  Ribbonmen  to  be  indebted 
to  some  friendly  member  far  protection  and  assistance  by 
"loan"  of  the  sign  or  password.  The  late  Sir  John  Gray 
told  me  that  when  contesting  Monaghan  County  in  1852  he 
found  that  his  opponents  in  a  particular  district  had  purchased 
the  support  of  the  Ribbonmen  as  an  election  mob,  and  that 

*  One  of  the  figurative  names  of  Ireland ;  actually  the  Gaelic  for 
Grace  O'Malley. 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  59 

passage  through  the  town  to  the  place  of  meeting  would  be 
denied  him.  He  realized  fully  the  dangers  of  appearing  in 
the  midst  of  these  men  ;  but  in  his  last  moments  of  despair 
a  friend  in  need  turned  up.  He  was  waited  upon  by  a  myste- 
rious personage,  who  told  him  it  would  be  "  a  disgrace  to  Ire- 
land if  the  patriotic  editor  of  the  Freeman's  Journal  was 
bludgeoned  in  the  street,  or  compelled  to  hide  in  his  hotel." 
He  thereupon  confided  to  Sir  John  the  current  Eibbon  signs, 
the  first  of  which  happened  to  be  simply  the  drawing  of  the 
fingers  of  the  right  hand  across  the  mouth.  Sir  John  hesi- 
tated for  an  instant.  Was  this  a  trap  to  lure  him  into  the 
midst  of  his  enemies  ?  He  quickly  dismissed  the  thought, 
and  boldly  sallied  forth,  his  companions  in  the  hotel,  ignor- 
ant of  the  aegis  confided  to  him,  vainly  endeavoring  to  dis- 
suade him.  A  yell  burst  from  the  mob  around  the  door 
when  he  emerged  into  the  street,  and  hundreds  of  sticks  rose 
in  the  air.  He  quietly  lifted  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  gave 
the  sign.  "For  barely  a  second,"  said  he,  telling  me  the 
story,  "there  flashed  through  my  mind  a  horrible  uncer- 
tainty ;  but  by  a  supreme  effort  I  maintained  myself,  and 
betrayed  no  symptom  of  alarm.  Suddenly  every  voice  was 
hushed,  every  weapon  was  lowered,  and  a  passage  was  opened 
out  for  me  in  the  crowd,  amidst  which  I  quietly  walked  to 
the  court-house,  where  the  meeting  was  proceeding." 

I  myself  have  known  instances  in  the  course  of  what  I 
call  the  rot  of  the  system  where  the  support  or  opposition  of 
the  Ribbonmen  during  an  election  was  quite  a  matter  of 
pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  Mr.  Richard  Swift,  who  was 
returned  member  of  Parliament  for  Sligo  County  in  1852, — 
one  of  the  most  faithful  and  worthy  Englishmen  who  ever 
espoused  the  public  service  of  Ireland, — lost  his  re-election 
in  1857  notoriously  because  he  refused  to  give  a  sum  of 
money  privately  demanded  as  black-mail  by  the  lodges.  In 
other  cases,  I  feel  bound  to  admit,  the  Ribbonmen  adopted  a 
less  venal  course.  They  scorned  to  fight  for  pay. 

But  alas  !  when  one  comes  to  review  the  actual  results  of 


60  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  Ribbon  system  in  Ireland, — to  survey  its  bloody  work 
throughout  those  fifty  years, — how  frightful  is  the  prospect ! 
It  has  been  said,  and  probably  with  some  truth,  that  it  has 
been  too  much  the  habit  to  attribute  erroneously  to  the  Rib- 
bon  organization  every  atrocity  committed  in  the  country, 
every  deed  of  blood  apparently  arising  out  of  agrarian  com- 
bination or  conspiracy.  An  emphatic  denial,  and  challenge 
to  proofs,  have  been  given  to  stories  of  midnight  trials  and 
sentences  of  death  at  lodge-meetings.  Very  possibly  the 
records  of  lodge-meetings  afford  no  such  proof,  though  there 
is  abundant  evidence  that  at  such  assemblages  threatening 
notices  and  warnings  were  ordered  to  be  served,  and  domi- 
ciliary visits  for  terrorizing  purposes  were  decreed.  But 
vain  is  all  pretense  that  the  Ribbon  Society  did  not  become, 
whatever  the  original  design  or  intentions  of  its  members 
may  have  been,  a  hideous  organization  of  outrage  and  mur- 
der. It  is  one  of  the  inherent  evils  of  oath-bound  secret 
societies  of  this  kind,  where  implicit  obedience  to  secret 
superiors  is  sworn,  that  they  may  very  easily  and  quickly 
drop  to  the  lowest  level  of  demoralization  and  become  asso- 
ciations for  the  wreaking  of  mere  personal  vengeance.  Men 
who  set  themselves  to  the  work  of  assassination,  on  any  pre- 
tense, speedily  become  so  depraved  that  life-taking  ceases  to 
have  enormity  in  their  eyes.  There  was  a  period  when  Ribbon 
outrages  had,  at  all  events,  conceivable  provocation ;  but 
there  came  a  time  when  they  sickened  the  public  conscience 
by  their  wantonness.  The  vengeance  of  the  society  was  ruth- 
less and  terrible.  Some  forty  years  ago  the  Catholic  peasantry 
of  Longford  County  were  panic-stricken  by  the  commence- 
ment of  what  looked  like  a  settled  design  for  their  extermina- 
tion in  order  that  a  Protestant  " plantation"  might  be  estab- 
lished in  their  stead.  Lord  Lorton  was  accountable  in  the 
largest  degree  for  this  alarm,  and  the  lamentable  conse- 
quences which  resulted.  He  commenced  considerable  evic- 
tions of  his  Catholic  tenantry  under  circumstances  of  great 
hardship ;  handing  over  the  farms  thus  cleared,  in  several 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  61 

consecutive  instances,  to  Protestant  new-comers.  Popular 
panic  no  doubt  exaggerated  much  as  to  what  had  been  done 
and  was  intended  ;  but  enough  was  patent  on  the  face  of  his 
proceedings  to  account  for  the  wild  excitement  which  arose. 
That  excitement  culminated  in  one  of  the  most  astonishing 
chapters  of  savage  vengeance  of  which  there  is  record  in 
Ireland.  Defending  himself  and  explaining  his  course  of 
action  subsequently,  Lord  Lorton  told  the  fate  of  nine  Prot- 
estant tenants — Brock,  Diamond,  Moorehead,  Cole,  Cath- 
cart,  Rollins,  (another)  Diamond,  (another)  Moorehead,  and 
Morrison — whom  he  had  planted  on  the  evicted  farms  : 

"  What  became  of  Brock  ?  " 

"He  was  murdered  a  very  short  time  after  he  had  taken 
possession,  close  by  his  house,  about  six  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing." 

"  "What  became  of  Diamond  ?" 

"  Diamond  was  attacked  and  very  much  injured.  He  is 
now  in  a  disabled  state." 

"  What  became  of  Alexander  Moorehead  ?  " 

"  He  had  all  his  cattle  destroyed  in  January." 

"  What  became  of  Cole  ?  " 

"  On  his  way  to  purchase  stock  he  was  stabbed  and  beaten 
in  a  most  savage  manner.  His  life  was  despaired  of." 

"  What  became  of  Cathcart  ?" 

"On  four  different  occasions  he  was  fired  at,  and  ulti- 
mately was  shot  dead  near  his  own  dwelling." 

"  What  became  of  Rollins  ?" 

"Rollins  and  the  second  Diamond  lived  together.  Their 
stock  was  taken  away,  and  was  found  killed,  skinned,  and 
buried  in  bog-holes." 

"  What  became  of  Hugh  Moorehead  ?  " 

"  He  was  murdered  while  sitting  round  the  fire  in  the 
evening  with  his  little  family." 

"  What  became  of  William  Morrison  ?" 

"  He  was  murdered.  An  armed  party  attacked  and  mur- 
dered him  in  a  house  in  Drumlish." 


62  NEW  IRELAND. 

This  terrible  recapitulation  enables  one  to  realize  the 
bloody  work  of  agrarian  combinations.  To  me  it  certainly 
is  peculiarly  revolting  because  of  the  religious  element  which 
mingles  in  the  story.  Yet  there  is  another  side  of  the  pic- 
ture to  be  looked  at.  The  guilt  of  one  party  is  not  lessened 
by  the  culpability  of  the  other  ;  but  each  has  to  be  viewed. 
I  have  given  in  the  words  of  that  nobleman  himself  Lord 
Lorton's  thrilling  recital  of  the  assassins'  vengeance.  Were 
I  to  set  forth  the  accounts  of  his  lordship's  proceedings  from 
the  lips  of  the  Ballinamuck  tenantry,  it  would  be  a  record 
of  great  barbarity.  The  relations  between  him  and  these 
people  seem  to  have  become,  in  that  evil  time,  those  of 
deadly  and  implacable  war.  A  document  under  his  own 
hand,  issued  a  year  before  the  razing  of  Ballinamuck  (re- 
ferred to  below),  and  relied  upon  as  a  "justification"  of 
that  ruthless  and  shocking  proceeding,  gives  some  idea  of 
Lord  Lorton's  temper : 

"  When  murders  and  other  barbarous  acts  of  violence  are 
committed  upon  any  part  of  the  property,  and  convictions 
do  not  take  place  at  the  ensuing  assizes,  the  occupiers  of  the 
lands  on  the  leases  expiring  will  be  ejected." 

That  is  to  say,  wholesale  eviction — which  meant  ruin  and 
death  for  the  wretched  people — was  to  follow,  unless  "  at 
the  ensuing  assizes"  the  Crown  prosecuted  and  convicted 
for  murder  or  other  outrage.  The  edicts  of  William  Kufus 
were  more  considerate  than  this.  Lord  Lorton  was  as  good 
as  his  threat.  Publicly  and  sincerely  he  afterward  ex- 
pressed his  sorrow  for  the  vengeance  he  wreaked  in  a 
moment  of  passion  ;  but  it  was  too  late  :  he  had  done  that 
which  no  repentance  could  undo.  He  ordered  the  whole 
population  of  Ballinamuck  to  be  swept  away,  and  the  entire 
village  to  be  razed  to  the  ground.  It  was  done.  That 
scene  will  never  be  forgotten  in  Longford. 

A  Protestant  landlord  and  magistrate  in  Sligo  County — 
one  who  was  himself,  many  years  ago,  "posted"  for  assas- 
sination by  the  Ribbon  authorities — assured  me  that  the 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  63 

frightful  severity  of  the  law,  as  administered  at  the  time, — 
the  excessive  penalties,  and  the  vengeful  spirit  in  which 
they  were  inflicted, — had  much  to  do  in  driving  the  rural 
population  into  this  lawless  and  savage  state.  "I  have 
known,"  said  he,  "a  man  to  be  executed  for  breaking  the 
hasp  of  a  door  and  rescuing  a  mule  belonging  to  himself 
that  had  been  seized  and  impounded."  This  was  what  was 
called  salutary  vigor.  He  added  that  in  more  instances 
than  one  within  his  own  knowledge  the  crimes  of  the  Eib- 
bonmen,  abominable  as  they  were,  had  been  preceded  by 
heartless  provocations.  The  way,  as  my  friend  described  it 
to  me,  in  which  the  body  of  a  man  murdered  in  that  neigh- 
borhood was  discovered  was  truly  remarkable.  This  man, 
Madden  by  name, — a  sullen,  daring,  reckless  fellow,— united 
nearly  every  avocation  that  could  render  him  odious  to  the 
people.  He  had  been  a  tithe-proctor,  brutal  and  unfeeling 
in  his  razzias.  He  was  rent-warner  and  bailiff.  He  knew 
the  surrounding  population  hated  him,  and  he  defiantly 
displayed  his  hate  of  them.  It  was  decided  at  some  mid- 
night council  that  Madden  should  be  put  to  death.  Parties 
of  two  or  three  lay  in  wait  for  him  on  several  occasions,  but 
he  happened  not  to  pass  by  the  way  which  they  expected. 
At  length  no  less  than  thirty-six  men,  divided  into  four 
separate  parties  of  nine  each,  were  told  off  and  posted  at 
every  possible  path  by  which  he  could  reach  his  house,  re- 
turning from  the  market-town.  One  of  these  bands  en- 
countered the  wretched  man,  and  murdered  him,  not  many 
perches  from  his  own  door.  "While  the  body  was  yet  warm, 
—nay,  horrible  to  relate,  while  life  yet  throbbed  in  it, — they 
buried  it  in  a  corner  of  a  freshly-plowed  field  close  at 
hand,  leaving  not  a  trace  of  their  bloody  deed  visible  to 
tell  the  tale.  Madden  was  missed.  The  hue  and  cry  was 
raised.  The  police  scoured  the  whole  country-side,  searched 
every  house,  examined  every  bush  and  fence,  all  in  vain. 
No  clue  could  be  found.  It  seemed  as  if  the  deed  was  to 
be  forever  shrouded  in  impenetrable  mystery.  One  day  the 


64  NEW  IRELAND. 

daughter  of  the  murdered  man  was  passing  from  one  field  to 
another,  and  mounted  an  old  dry-built  stone  wall.  It  gave 
way  beneath  her,  and  she  fell  heavily  forward.  To  save 
herself,  as  she  came  with  a  shock  to  the  ground,  she  put  out 
her  hand.  As  it  sunk  in  the  soft  soil  it  touched  and  grasped 
— the  hand  of  her  father's  buried  corpse !  The  unfortu- 
nate man  seems  to  have  struggled  in  his  bloody  grave 
after  the  murderers  had  quitted  the  scene.  He  had  thrust 
one  of  his  hands  upward  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  sur- 
face ! 

From  1835  to  1855  the  Ribbon  organization  was  at  its 
greatest  strength.  For  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years  it  has 
been  gradually  disappearing  from  the  greater  part  of  Ire- 
land, yet,  strange  to  say,  betimes  intensifying,  in  a  baser  and 
more  malignant  form  than  ever,  in  one  or  two  localities. 
With  the  emigration  of  the  laboring  classes  it  was  carried 
abroad,  to  England  and  to  America.  At  one  time  the  most 
formidable  lodges  were  in  Lancashire,  whither,  it  is  said, 
the  headquarters  were  removed  for  safety.  It  manifestly 
adapted  itself  to  the  necessities  or  requirements  of  the  class 
whence  its  ranks  were  recruited ;  for  while  at  home  in  Ire- 
land it  affected  to  right  the  wrongs  of  tenants  and  farm- 
laborers  against  landlords  and  bailiffs,  in  England  it  offered 
to  its  members  the  advantages  of  a  league  offensive  and  de- 
fensive in  a  species  of  trades -union  terrorism.  Likely 
enough  some  sort  of  combination  was  found  to  be  almost  a 
necessity  by  the  laboring  Irish  at  one  stage  of  their  existence 
in  England,  when  the  effect  of  their  appearance  in  the  labor 
market  drew  upon  them  the  fierce  hostility  of  the  lower 
classes  around  them.  But  all  this  has  passed  away ;  and  the 
few  traces  of  demoralized  Eibbonism  that  may  yet  be  found 
lingering  are,  in  nearly  every  case,  miserable  leagues  for  the 
lowest  and  worst  of  purposes,  in  which  Irishman  slays  Irish- 
man, and  leave  to  live  or  to  obtain  employment  in  a  partic- 
ular district  is  regulated  by  the  secret  tribunal.  Eibbonism 
has  been  killed  off — has  found  existence  impossible — accord- 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  65 

ing  as  a  healthier  public  opinion  has  grown  among  the 
masses.  Here,  again,  the  school  and  the  newspaper  have 
proved  powerful  agencies  of  moral  and  political  regeneration. 
This  curse  of  Ireland  is  doomed  to  disappear  before  the  on- 
ward march  of  intelligence  and  patriotism. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

FATHER  MATHEW. 

"  Two  suns,"  we  are  told,  "  do  not  shine  in  the  one  firma- 
ment ; "  yet  the  same  period  of  Irish  history  beheld  side  by 
side  with  Daniel  O'Connell,  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  his 
great  countryman  and  contemporary,  Theobald  Mathew,  "the 
Apostle  of  Temperance." 

In  widely-different  characters,  however,  these  two  men  won 
eminence  and  praise.  One  was  a  political  leader  ;  the  other 
was  a  moral  reformer.  The  one  commanded  the  allegiance 
of  a  party  in  the  State  ;  the  other  received  the  homage  of  all. 
There  is  scarcely  a  country  in  the  civilized  world  in  which 
the  memory  of  Father  Mathew  is  not  revered.  Wherever 
good  men  are  laboring  for  the  elevation  of  humanity,  the 
story  of  his  career  is  an  incentive  to  brave  endeavor ;  and 
how  far  his  work  has  perished  with  or  survived  him  is  a 
question  which  excites  solicitude. 

Theobald  Mathew  was  born  on  the  10th  of  October,  1790, 
at  Thomastown  House,  near  Cashel,  in  Tipperary,  at  that 
time  the  seat  of  George  Mathew,  Earl  of  Llandaff.  The 
Mathews,  or  Mathew,  family,  of  Welsh  origin,  appear  to  have 
been  settled  in  Tipperary  ever  since  the  civil  war  of  1641. 
In  1650  one  of  its  members,  Captain  George  Mathews,  then 
recently  married  to  Lady  Cahir,  held  Cahir  Castle  for  the 
king,  but  after  a  brave  resistance  capitulated  to  the  forces  of 
Cromwell, — the  Protector,  in  a  letter  under  his  own  hand, 
bearing  testimony  to  the  gallantry  of  the  defense. 

At  an  early  age  young  Theobald  was  sent  to  Maynooth  to 
be  educated  for  the  Catholic  priesthood  j  but  an  infraction 

66 


FATHER  MATHEW.  67 

of  discipline — the  entertainment  of  some  fellow-students  in 
his  rooms  at  forbidden  hours,  I  believe — led  to  his  retirement 
from  the  college.  He  completed  his  ecclesiastical  training, 
however,  at  the  Capuchin  College,  Kilkenny,  and  was  or- 
dained in  1814.  After  a  few  years  of  clerical  labor  in  the 
city  of  St.  Canice,  he  was  moved  by  his  superiors  to  the 
Cork  friary  of  the  order,  where  he  devoted  himself  with  more 
than  ordinary  zeal  to  the  duties  of  his  position. 

In  the  burst  of  success  which  hailed  Father  Mathew's 
crusade  against  intoxicating  drink,  people  came  to  regard 
him  as  the  originator  or  parent  of  the  temperance  movement. 
Yet  this  was  not  so.  He  was  a  recruit,  brought  slowly  to 
espouse  the  cause  which  but  for  his  adhesion  might  have 
perished  in  Ireland.  As  early  at  all  events  as  1836  there 
was  in  Cork  a  little  band  of  men  who  had  embraced  the  doc- 
trine of  total  abstinence  from  alcoholic  beverages.  They  were 
chiefly  Protestants,  some  of  the  most  active  among  them  be- 
longing to  a  religious  denomination  the  members  of  which 
have  been  leaders  in  nearly  every  social  and  moral  reform, 
and  every  humane  or  philanthropic  effort,  within  my  memory 
in  Ireland, — the  Society  of  Friends. 

When  it  was  whispered  around  that  men  not  yet  in  a 
lunatic-asylum  had  taken  up  the  notion  that  human  life  was 
possible  without  alcoholic  drink,  the  wits  of  Cork  laughed 
heartily  at  the  craze.  The  believers  in  it  were  popularly 
regarded  very  much  as  the  Shaker  community  seem  to  be 
in  this  year  of  grace  eighteen  hundred  and  seventy-seven. 
They  were  verily  the  "  peculiar  people  "  of  that  date.  After 
a  while,  undeterred  by  the  derision  which  they  knew  awaited 
them,  they  ventured  upon  public  addresses,  usually  in  some 
little  school-room  or  meeting-house  hid  away  in  the  back 
lanes.  Hither  came  stray  listeners  to  hear  what  it  was  all 
like,  and  to  see  with  their  own  eyes  the  fanatics  and  fools 
who  thought  men  could  do  without  Beamish  and  Crawford's 
porter  or  Wyse's  whisky.  Many  "  came  to  scoff,"  but  few 
indeed  "remained  to  pray."  There  is,  perhaps,  not  a  city 


68  NEW  IRELAND. 

in  the  empire  so  dominated  by  sarcasms  as  Cork.  Every 
well-known  character  has  a  soubriquet  fastened  on  him  by 
some  one  of  the  local  wits.  Every  incident  is  viewed  from 
its  comic  side.  In  the  Momonian  capital,  to  be  laughed  at 
is  to  be  suppressed  ;  and  this  cold-water  business  was  over- 
whelmed by  ridicule. 

Toiling  laboriously  amidst  the  squalor  and  poverty  of  the 
poorest  quarter  of  Cork  city,  the  young  Capuchin  was  at 
this  time  laying  the  foundation  for  that  marvelous  personal 
influence  which  afterward  formed  so  great  a  part  of  his 
power.  He  was  not  content  with  discharging  the  ordinary 
duties  of  his  sacred  calling,  although  these  were  in  them- 
selves severe  and  trying.  He  pushed  entirely  outside  the 
strictly  spiritual  sphere.  He  set  up  schools, — infant  and 
adult,  Sunday  and  weekday  ;  rented  a  loft  here  and  a  third- 
floor  there,  wherein  he  established  industrial  teaching,  the 
girls  being  taught  various  knitting  and  needle-work  occupa- 
tions, the  boys  such  trades  as  seemed  most  suitable.  Then 
there  was  not  a  dispensary  or  a  hospital,  not  an  alms  society 
or  room-keepers'  aid  fund,  in  Cork,  that  he  was  not  in  the 
thick  of  the  work,  pushing  on  every  good  endeavor,  and 
constantly  devising  some  new  experiment  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. Before  long  the  name  of  the  young  friar  was  a  house- 
hold word;  his  untiring  activity,  his  noble  unselfishness, 
his  ardent  anxiety  for  upraising  the  moral  and  social  condi- 
tion of  the  wretched  masses,  were  the  theme  of  every  tongue. 
These  labors  inevitably  brought  him  into  association  with 
good  and  philanthropic  men  of  every  creed  and  every  grade  ; 
and  the  charm  of  his  manner,  his  bright,  genial,  kindly 
nature,  his  unaffected  simplicity  and  single-mindedness,  soon 
rendered  him  as  great  a  favorite  with  Protestants  as  with  his 
own  co-religionists. 

Among  the  former  were  some  of  the  total-abstinence  ad- 
vocates, notably  the  leading  "  fanatic  "  of  the  movement,  a 
man  whose  name  is  still  warmly  remembered  by  his  fellow- 
merchants  and  fellow-citizens  of  Cork, — William  Martin. 


FATHER  MATHEW.  69 

Long  had  this  sturdy  "Quaker"  and  his  gallant  band 
preached  the  new  evangel  of  abstinence  from  alcohol ;  but 
they  felt  that,  though  the  Catholic  masses  around  them  re- 
spected them  greatly  and  viewed  them  kindly,  no  one  but  a 
Catholic  of  influence  and  popularity  could  really  give  the 
movement  headway  among  the  people.  One  day  while 
honest  "Bill  Martin"  and  Father  Mathew  were  making 
their  morning  visitation  of  a  hospital,  the  constantly-sug- 
gested theme  of  the  miseries  which  drink  brought  on  the 
people  came  uppermost.  Mr.  Martin,  in  a  burst  of  passion- 
ate grief  or  invective,  suddenly  stopped  and  turned  to  his 
companion,  exclaiming,  "Oh,  Theobald  Mathew,  Theobald 
Mathew,  what  thou  couldst  do  if  thou  wouldst  only  take  up 
this  work  of  banishing  the  fiend  that  desolates  the  houses  of 
thy  people  so  ! " 

The  young  Capuchin  seemed  as  if  struck  by  some  mys- 
terious power.  He  remained  silent,  walked  moodily  on  till 
he  parted  from  his  Quaker  companion,  then  went  home, 
pondering  words  which  all  that  day  and  all  through  the  night 
seemed  still  to  ring  in  his  ears :  "  Oh,  Theobald  Mathew, 
what  thou  couldst  do  if  thou  wouldst  but  take  up  this  work  ! " 

If  there  was  one  man  in  Cork  city  who  pre-eminently  had 
tried  every  other  way  of  rescuing  and  uplifting  the  people, 
it  was  he.  What  had  he  not  done,  what  had  he  not  tried  ? 
and  yet  did  not  this  drink-curse  start  up  at  every  turn  to 
baffle  and  defeat  his  every  endeavor  ? 

But  was  not  William  Martin's  scheme  a  mad  and  imprac- 
ticable idea  ?  Was  it  not  already  consigned  to  failure  by  the 
good-humored  laughter  of  the  city  ?  Could  he  indeed  do 
what  his  friend  believed  ? 

For  some  days  Father  Mathew  considered  the  whole  sub- 
ject seriously.  One  morning,  as  he  rose  from  his  knees  in 
his  little  oratory,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Here  goes,  in  the 
name  of  God. "  * 

*  This  incident  is  rather  differently  narrated  by  the  late  Mr  Maguire, 
M.P.,  in  his  charming  volume  "  Father  Mathew  :  a  Biography."  I 
have  preferred  to  give  it  as  told  to  myself  in  early  boyhood. 


70  NEW  IRELAND. 

An  hour  afterward  he  was  in  the  office  of  "William  Martin. 
"Friend  William,"  said  he,  "I  have  come  to  tell  you  a 
piece  of  news.  I  mean  to  join  your  temperance  society  to- 
night. " 

The  honest-souled  Quaker  rushed  over,  flung  his  arms 
round  the  neck  of  that  young  Popish  friar,  kissed  him  like  a 
child,  and  cried  out,  "  Thank  God  !  thank  God  !" 

Thus  entered  Father  Mathew  on  that  work  with  which  his 
name  is  so  memorably  associated ;  thus  began  that  wonderful 
moral  revolution  which  was  soon  to  startle  the  kingdom. 

The  news  that  the  popular  young  Capuchin  had  taken  up 
with  "the  teetotal  men"  soon  spread  in  Cork.  All  at  once 
it  set  people  thinking,  for  Father  Mathew  had  always  been 
especially  practical,  not  visionary,  in  his  schemes  and  efforts 
for  social  improvement  and  moral  reform.  Crowds  came  to 
hear  what  he  might  have  to  say  on  the  subject.  Before 
many  weeks  the  enrollment  of  adherents  attained  considerable 
volume,  and  the  direction  of  the  work  passed  gradually  into 
his  own  hands.  Indeed  he  early  decided,  after  consultation 
with  the  first  friends  of  the  movement,  to  establish  an  organi- 
zation, or  rather  an  enrollment,  under  his  own  presidency, 
which  he  did  on  the  10th  of  April,  1838. 

The  fame  of  his  labors  and  of  his  success  filled  the  city. 
Every  street,  every  lane  and  alley,  every  large  workshop,  had 
its  story  of  the  marvelous  change  from  misery  and  want  to 
comfort  and  happiness  wrought  in  some  particular  case  by 
"joining  Father  Mathew."  Every  locality  had  its  illustra- 
tion ;  every  one  knew  some  wretched  drunkard's  home  that 
had  been  converted,  as  if  by  the  wand  of  a  magician,  into 
a  scene  of  humble  contentment  and  smiling  plenty.  The 
working  classes  seemed 'quite  staggered  by  the  indubitable 
proofs  that  not  only  could  men  live  and  move  and  have 
their  being  without  John  Barleycorn's  aid,  but  that  health, 
happiness,  and  prosperity  seemed  to  be  within  the  easy  reach 
of  all  who  shunned  him.  The  crowds  who  had  found  these 
blessings  under  the  temperance  banner  were  imbued  with  a 


FATHER  MATHEW.  71 

grateful  enthusiasm.  They  shouted  far  and  wide  the  story 
of  their  redemption.  They  hurried  to  every  sufferer  with 
the  tidings  of  hope  and  joy.  Each  convert  became  a  fiery 
apostle  in  his  own  way,  and  before  the  second  anniversary 
of  Father  Mathew's  lifting  of  the  standard  had  come  round, 
he  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  movement  evidently  des- 
tined to  a  great  future. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  temperance  reformation 
of  Father  Mathew's  time  in  Ireland  was  largely  the  outcome 
of  an  enthusiasm  which  could  not  altogether  last.  Its  nov- 
elty was  a  great  attraction.  That  is  to  say,  men  saw  around 
them  the  rich  fruits  of  a  widely-embraced  reform  that  had 
been  preached  and  accepted  among  them  for  the  first  time. 
Not  yet  had  reaction  or  reverse  warned  them  that  there  was 
any  but  a  bright  side  to  the  picture.  Not  yet  had  the  terri- 
ble lesson  been  learned  that  "taking  the  pledge"  did  not 
settle  the  question  for  aye.  As  yet  the  vow  retained  its  pris- 
tine force  and  solemnity.  As  yet  the  dispiriting  and  demoral- 
izing spectacle  of  thousands  relapsing  again  and  again  had 
not  overthrown  popular  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of  the 
movement. 

The  period  between  1839  and  1845  beheld,  however,  its 
unchecked  and  unbroken  triumph.  The  wonders  that  had 
been  accomplished  in  Cork,  of  course,  were  noised  through- 
out the  neighboring  counties  ;  invitations  were  pressed  on 
Father  Mathew  by  the  local  clergy,  soliciting  his  presence  so 
that  the  blessing  which  his  work  was  diffusing  might  be 
shared  by  their  people. 

It  may  be  asked,  Why  should  not  these  clergymen  have 
themselves  administered  the  total-abstinence  pledge,  as  they 
might  have  done  ?  Why  were  Father  Mathew's  actual 
presence  and  personal  advocacy  so  essential  ?  If  pious  and 
eloquent  exhortation  could  prevail  on  men  to  join  in  a 
movement  the  good  results  of  which  were  so  startlingly  de- 
monstrated, were  there  not  hundreds  of  priests  and  laymen, 
eloquent  and  earnest,  ready  to  spread  the  crusade  ? 


72  NEW  IRELAND. 

The  truth  is  that  much  of  Father  Mathew's  success  was 
owing  to  his  marvelous  personal  influence — the  almost  magi- 
cal effect  of  his  personal  exhortations.  Furthermore,  the 
prestige  of  his  name,  and  the  eclat  with  which  he  was  wel- 
comed in  each  locality,  gave  impression  to  his  missionary 
appearance  and  vastly  increased  his  power.  He  was  not 
what  would  be  called  a  great  orator ;  it  was  not  what  we 
know  as  eloquence  that  enabled  him  to  bend  to  his  will  the 
multitudes  that  thronged  around  him.  I  was  little  more 
than  twelve  years  of  age  when  I  first  heard  Father  Mathew, 
and  I  can  still  remember  the  impressions  then  created.  They 
were,  I  am  confident,  similar  to  the  emotions  experienced  by 
most  of  those  whose  good  fortune  it  was  to  have  listened  at 
anytime  to  the  "Apostle  of  Temperance."  I  was  moved 
not  so  much  by  his  words  as  by  some  indescribable  influence 
or  charm  which  he  seemed  to  exercise  over  his  audience. 
His  voice  was  exceedingly  sweet  and  musical,  and  capable  of 
great  inflections.  His  features  were  pleasing  and  handsome, 
and  when  he  smiled,  sunshine  diffused  itself  around.  There 
was  an  air  of  dignity  and  tenderness  indescribable  about  him, 
and  the  earnestness  with  which  he  spoke,  the  intense  feel- 
ing he  displayed,  were  irresistible.  When  such  a  man  preached 
among  a  people  so  susceptible  as  the  Celtic  Irish  a  cause  so 
just  and  holy, — preached  it  out  of  the  fullness  of  a  heart 
abounding  with  love  for  them,  with  compassion  for  their 
sorrows  and  solicitude  for  their  happiness — who  can  wonder 
that  the  whole  nation  rose  at  his  words  as  Christendom  an- 
swered to  the  call  of  Peter  the  Hermit  ?  - 

It  was  indeed  a  "crusade"  Father  Mathew  preached. 
Whenever  he  visited  a  town  or  city,  the  population  for  a 
score  of  miles  all  round  turned  out  en  masse.  At  Limerick 
so  vast  was  the  assemblage  that  a  troop  of  dragoons  passing 
along  the  quay  got  "jammed"  in  the  crowd,  and  were  liter- 
ally pushed  into  the  river  by  the  surging  of  the  multitude. 
Railways  were  at  the  time  scarcely  known  in  Ireland,  and 
Father  Mathew  traveled  by  the  mail-coach,  out  of  which 


FATHER  MATHEW.  73 

circumstance  a  formidable  State  grievance  arose.  If  the  in- 
habitants of  a  town  or  village  happened  to  hear  that  the 
famous  Capuchin  was  a  passenger,  they  waylaid  the  vehicle 
— "stopped  her  Majesty's  mail,"  in  fact — and  refused  to  let 
it  proceed  till  he  had  administered  the  pledge  to  them. 

It  was  a  time  when  political  feeling  ran  high  and  strong 
in  Ireland.  It  was  the  period  of  O'ConnelFs  Repeal  agita- 
tion and  of  all  the  accompanying  excitement  of  that  move- 
ment. Yet,  strange  to  say,  Orange  and  Green  alike  waved 
a  greeting  to  Father  Mathew ;  Whig,  Tory,  and  Repealer 
sounded  his  praise  ;  and  nowhere  in  all  Ireland  could  he  have 
received  a  welcome  more  cordial  and  enthusiastic  than  that 
which  was  extended  to  him,  "Popish  friar"  as  he  was,  by 
the  Protestants  of  Ulster.  He  had  been  warned  not  to  carry 
out  his  purpose  of  visiting  that  province  ;  the  Orangemen, 
it  was  declared,  could  not  stand  the  sight  of  a  Catholic  priest 
received  with  public  festive  display  in  their  midst.  What 
really  happened  was  that  the  dreaded  Orangemen  came  out 
in  grand  procession  to  join  in  the  ovation.  When  Father 
Mathew  saw  their  flags  hung  out  at  Cootehill  on  church  and 
kirk,  he  rightly  appreciated  the  spirit  of  the  display,  and 
called  for  "  three  cheers  "  for  them  !  A  Catholic  clergyman 
calling  for  a  cordial  salutation  of  the  Orange  banner,  and  a 
Catholic  assemblage  heartily  responding,  was  something  al- 
most inconceivable.  It  had  never  occurred  before  in  Ireland ; 
I  am  afraid  it  has  never  occurred  since. 

In  1843  he  visited  England,  landing  at  Liverpool,  and 
proceeding  by  way  of  Manchester,  Huddersfield,  Leeds,  and 
York  to  London.  At  each  of  these  places  he  remained  a 
day  or  two,  administering  the  pledge  to  tens  of  thousands. 
In  London  he  was  fated  to  encounter  the  only  attempt  ever 
made  to  offer  him  insult  and  violence.  The  publicans  of 
the  great  metropolis  were  wroth  with  the  audacity  of  this 
endeavor  to  bring  the  temperance  movement  to  their  doors. 
They  determined  to  put  Father  Mathew  down ;  but  they 
were  too  skillful  to  expose  their  real  motive  of  opposition  by 
4 


74  NEW  IRELAND, 

openly  raising  the  cry  of  "trade  interests  in  danger."  For 
weeks  the  tap-room  loungers  and  beery  roughs  of  the  metrop- 
olis were  harangued  over  the  counter  about  the  "Popish 
Irish  priest "  who  was  coming  to  overthrow  their  liberties. 
The  result  was  that,  at  more  than  one  place  in  the  city,  on 
Father  Mathew's  appearance  an  infuriate  rabble  assailed  the 
platform,  compelling  him  to  desist  or  else  to  administer  the 
pledge  under  protection  of  the  police.  At  Bermondsey  the 
publicans'  mob  hooted  and  pelted  him,  and  some  of  them 
were  detected  in  an  attempt  secretly  to  cut  the  ropes  of  the 
platform-scaffolding.  It  was  at  the  same  place  and  on  the 
same  occasion,  I  believe,  that  they  marched  to  interrupt  him 
in  a  procession  singularly,  let  me  rather  say  disgracefully, 
equipped.  The  cohort  of  tap-room  roughs  were  wreathed 
from  head  to  foot  in  hop-leaves  :  each  one  bore  a  can  of  beer 
in  one  hand  and  a  stave  in  the  other.  In  this  fashion  they 
invaded  the  temperance  meeting,  whereupon,  as  might  be 
expected,  a  violent  conflict  ensued,  terminated  only  by  the 
timely  arrival  of  a  strong  body  of  police. 

Despite  all  such  opposition,  Father  Mathew  pursued  his 
labors  in  London.  He  had  the  satisfaction,  before  leaving, 
of  knowing  that  he  had  laid  broad  and  deep  the  foundations 
of  a  great  reformation  among,  at  all  events,  his  own  fellow- 
countrymen  and  co-religionists  in  the  great  city.  During 
his  stay  the  most  flattering  attentions  were  poured  upon 
him  by  the  best  and  greatest  men  of  England.  The  Protes- 
tant Bishop  of  Norwich  invited  him  to  visit  that  town  and 
accept  the  hospitalities  of  the  palace.  Lord  Stanhope  pressed 
a  like  welcome  to  Chevening ;  and  at  Lord  Lansdowne's  the 
"Irish  Popish  friar"  received  the  cordial  greetings  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  Lord  Brougham,  and  many  other  nota- 
bilities. He  did  not  relish  this  "lionizing,"  but  he  accepted 
these  demonstrations  as  a  valuable  moral  aid  and  encour- 
agement to  his  work.  Mr.  Maguire  tells  a  story  I  had 
not  heard  before,  which  is  quite  characteristic  of  Father 
Mathew's  simplicity.  He  was  being  taken  in  to  dinner  by 


FATHER  MATHEW.  75 

some  noble  host  in  London,  when  he  recognized  in  one  of  the 
attendant  servants  a  man  whom  he  had  formerly  known  as 
a  humble  but  devoted  member  of  the  temperance  society  in 
Cork  city.  Father  Mathew  rushed  over  to  him,  shook  him 
heartily  by  the  hand,  and  earnestly  inquired  after  his  wel- 
fare, above  all  whether  he  still  was  faithful  to  his  "pledge." 
The  honored  guest  of  the  evening  claiming  acquaintance  in 
this  way  with  one  of  the  domestics  must  have  sadly  aston- 
ished some  of  the  company.  But  Father  Mathew  saw  only 
in  poor  James  or  Thomas  "  a  man  and  a  brother  "  in  the 
ranks  of  the  great  cause. 

It  may  be  estimated  that  in  1845  the  temperance  move- 
ment had  attained  to  its  topmost  height  in  Ireland.  What 
had  it  to  show  for  itself  ?  What  were  its  visible  fruits  by 
this  time  ?  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  it  had  effected  an 
astonishing  transformation.  It  could  not  bring  to  Ireland 
that  prosperity  and  wealth  which  flow  from  increased  produc- 
tion or  multiplied  resources.  The  condition  of  the  bulk  of 
the  population  was  at  best,  as  the  world  soon  afterward  came 
to  know,  terribly  precarious.  But,  subject  to  this  reservation, 
it  may  be  said  that  never  had  a  people  made  within  the  same 
space  of  time  such  strides  from  hardship  to  comparative  com- 
fort, from  improvidence  to  thrift,  from  the  crimes  of  inebriate 
passion  to  the  ordered  habits  of  sobriety  and  industry.  I 
speak  of  what  I  saw.  The  temperance  movement  had  not,  I 
repeat,  removed  the  deep-lying  political  causes  of  Irish  pov- 
erty and  crime  ;  but  it  brought  to  the  humblest  some  ameli- 
oration of  his  lot ;  it  banished  from  thousands  of  homes 
afflictions  that  politics  (as  we  use  the  phrase)  could  neither 
create  nor  cure ;  it  visibly  diffused  the  feeling  of  self-respect 
and  the  virtue  of  self-reliance  among  the  people.  We  all 
could  note  its  influence,  not  only  in  their  personal  habits, 
but  in  their  dress,  in  their  manners,  and  in  the  greater  neat- 
ness and  tidiness  of  their  homes.  To  this  purport  came  tes- 
timony from  every  side.  The  magistracy  and  police  told  of 
crime  greatly  diminished.  The  clergy  told  of  churches  better 


76  NEW  IRELAND. 

filled  with  sincere  and  earnest  worshipers.  Traders  rejoiced 
to  find  how  vast  was  the  increase  in  popular  expenditure  on 
articles  of  food  and  clothing  or  of  home  or  personal  comfort. 
There  is  official  evidence  in  abundance  on  the  point.  As 
early  as  1840  the  Lord- Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  in  a  public 
letter,  said,  "  To  the  benefit  which  the  temperance  pledge  has 
conferred  upon  Ireland,  in  the  improved  habits  of  the  people, 
and  in  the  diminution  of  outrage,  his  Excellency  bears  grate- 
ful testimony."  Like  declarations  might  be  cited  from  ex- 
ecutive officials  throughout  the  later  years  up  to  1845.  The 
police  returns  for  the  period  are  equally  striking ;  but  so 
many  circumstances  have  to  be  weighed  and  calculated  when 
considering  the  fluctuations  in  "criminal  statistics"  in  Ire- 
land, that  as  a  general  rule  I  lay  little  stress  on  what  they 
show.  Still,  it  is  rather  convincing  to  find  that  the  annual 
committals  to  prison  in  the  seven  years  from  1839  to  1845, 
with  a  rapidly  increasing  population,  show  a  steady  decrease 
from  twelve  thousand  to  seven  thousand ;  that  the  capital 
sentences  in  each  year  declined  gradually  from  sixty-six  to 
fourteen  ;  and  that  the  penal  convictions  sank  from  nine 
hundred  in  1839  to  five  hundred  in  1845. 

Of  one  interest  in  the  country  no  doubt  the  movement 
made  a  wreck :  the  whisky  trade  was  for  the  time  almost  an- 
nihilated. In  this  connection  two  remarkable  facts  deserve  to 
be  especially  noted  :  first,  that  members  of  Father  Mathew's 
own  family  were  large  distillers,  and  were  among  the  first  to 
suffer  ruin  by  the  success  of  his  labors  ;  secondly,  that  from 
first  to  last  no  complaint,  invective,  or  opposition  ever  was 
directed  against  Father  Mathew  by  those  of  his  countrymen 
whose  fortunes  he  thus  overwhelmed.  Nay,  among  the 
warmest  eulogies  that  cheered  his  career  may  be  found  the 
utterances  of  Irish  manufacturers  and  venders  of  alcoholic 
drink.  * 


*  It  is  right  to  say  that  a  like  generous  and  unselfish  spirit  still 
exists  among  the  same  classes  in  many  parts  of  Ireland.   No  men  more 


FATHER  MATHEW.  77 

But  times  of  gloorn  and  sorrow  were  now  at  hand  for 
Father  Mathew  and  for  Ireland.  Already  a  canker  care 
was  gnawing  at  that  once  light  and  joyous  heart.  Troubles 
and  embarrassments,  beneath  which,  alas  !  he  was  eventually 
to  sink,  were  secretly  crushing  the  mind  and  energies  of 
Father  Mathew.  Alone — single-handed — he  had  for  seven 
years  conducted  a  movement,  had  established,  extended,  and 
maintained  an  organization  such  as  no  managing  executive  in 
these  days  could  work  without  enormous  pecuniary  resources ; 
and  regular  revenues  for  the  purpose  he  had  none  whatever. 
He  seemed  to  take  little  thought  of  the  financial  ways  and 
means,  but  pushed  on  eagerly  with  the  work,  freely  incur- 
ring all  incidental  obligations,  and  raising  funds  on  his  own 
responsibility  as  best  he  could. 

To  each  one  of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  to  whom  he 
administered  the  pledge  an  enrollment  card  and  medal  were 
given  :  in  truth  the  people  seemed  to  think  it  no  binding 
vow  without  this  visible  token.  Each  member  was  supposed 
to  pay  a  shilling  for  these  symbols  of  enrollment ;  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  not  more  than  half  the  number  so  paid.  On 
the  contrary,  too  often  so  wretched  was  the  plight  of  the  hap- 
less victim  of  intemperance  who  knelt  before  him  that  Father 
Mathew's  generous  hand  was  outreached  not  only  with  a 
blessing  but  a  dole.  In  1845  he  was  in  debt  to  medal  man- 
ufacturers and  others  on  behalf  of  the  temperance  movement 
some  five  thousand  pounds.  He  had  long  groaned  under  the 
burden  unknown  to  the  world,  unwilling,  I  believe,  to  dis- 
close the  source  on  which  he  relied  for  sometime  liquidating 
these  claims.  Lady  Elizabeth  Mathew,  his  earliest  and  most 
constant  friend,  had  intimated  to  him  her  intention  of  be- 
queathing him  a  substantial  token  of  her  admiration  for  his 
work  and  esteem  for  himself.  Like  many  another  generous 
purpose  of  a  similar  character,  this  was  doomed  to  be  un- 

heartily  praise  the  good  effects  of  the  voluntary  "Sunday  closing" 
adopted  throughout  Wexford  than  the  licensed  traders  themselves,  as 
a  general  rule,  do  in  that  county. 


78  NEW  IRELAND. 

fulfilled.  Death  called  too  suddenly  on  the  intending  bene- 
factress, and  Father  Mathew  found  himself  haunted  by  the 
tortures  that  dog  the  debtor's  path. 

That  the  country  would  have  freely  come  to  his  relief  in 
this  matter,  as  an  obvious  act  of  duty  and  of  gratitude,  surely 
cannot  be  doubted  ;  but  coincidently  with  the  revelation  of 
his  embarrassments  came  events  that  paralyzed  the  public 
mind.  The  famine,  that  stupendous  calamity  which  no  one 
can  recall  without  a  shudder,  had  burst  on  the  hapless  land. 
In  the  fierce  struggle  for  existence,  the  desperate  eifort  to 
save  the  people,  every  other  public  duty  was  suspended ;  and 
Father  Mathew's  labors  from  1846  to  1850  were  one  pro- 
longed combat  with  the  terrible  scourge  that  desolated  the 
country.  Bravely,  uncomplainingly,  unfalteringly,  he  worked 
on,  amidst  the  wreck  of  every  hope,  the  overthrow  of  all  he 
loved  and  prized.  In  May,  1847,  he  was  nominated  by  the 
clergy  of  Cork  for  the  then  vacant  miter  of  that  diocese  ;  but 
the  choice  was  not  confirmed  at  Rome,  and  a  new  disappoint- 
ment tried  his  sinking  soul.  In  the  same  year  the  Govern- 
ment, aware  of  his  embarrassed  circumstances,  bestowed  on 
him  a  grant  of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year,  which  he  forth- 
with devoted  to  paying  for  an  insurance  on  his  life  to  indem- 
nify his  creditors.  Mental  and  physical  wear  and  tear  such 
as  he  endured  proved  too  much  for  even  his  once  splendid 
constitution.  In  the  spring  of  1848  he  was  attacked  by  par- 
alysis,— an  ominous  premonition.  Although  he  recovered 
in  a  few  weeks,  and  in  the  following  year  visited  America, 
where  he  remained  till  the  close  of  1851,  he  was  never  again 
the  same  man.  In  February,  1852,  paralysis  assailed  him 
for  the  second  time,  and  from  that  date  forward  all  friends 
could  see  that  active  life  for  him  was  over.  In  October,  1854, 
he  went  to  Madeira,  and  tried  for  a  year  what  balm  its  breezes 
might  bring.  Next  year  he  came  home,  and  found,  I  verily 
believe,  more  solace  and  relief  under  the  tender  care  and 
affectionate  attentions  of  Protestant  friends  in  Liverpool, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kathbone,  than  amidst  the  vineyards  and 


FATHER  MATHEW.  79 

orange  groves  of  the  sunny  Southern  isle.  In  1856  he  came, 
or  rather  was  brought,  to  Queenstown.  He  himself  by  this 
time  felt  that  the  end  was  not  afar  off,  and  he  fain  would  die 
amidst  the  familiar  faces  and  scenes  of  home.  On  the  8th  of 
December,  1856,  a  wail  of  sorrow  in  the  crowded  streets  of 
Cork  city  told  that  one  fondly  loved,  yea,  idolized,  by  the 
people,  was  no  more.  Not  Ireland  alone,  but  all  Christen- 
dom, mourned  a  true  hero  in  "  the  Apostle  of  Temperance." 

I  have  said  that  the  astonishing  success  of  the  temperance 
movement  from  1838  to  1845  was  largely  the  product  of  en- 
thusiasm, and  was  certain  to  be  followed  by  a  reaction. 
Even  if  no  unusual  misfortune  had  befallen,  some  such  retro- 
cession would,  I  am  confident,  have  been  suffered,  but  noth- 
ing that  would  have  seriously  impaired  the  reformation  which 
Father  Mathew  had  wrought.  Few  words  are  needed  to  ex- 
plain how  such  an  event  as  the  famine  wrecked  this  great 
work,  as  it  did  many  another  noble  enterprise,  moral  and 
material,  at  the  time.  It  was  as  if  a  great  wave  submerged 
the  island,  burying,  obliterating,  or  sweeping  away  every- 
thing. When  that  fearful  deluge  subsided,  and  the  moun- 
tain-tops began  to  reappear,  a  scene  of  utter  desolation  came 
to  view. 

The  circumstances  under  which  the  drink-curse  arose  anew 
among  the  Irish  people  are  painfully  reproachful  to  our  law- 
makers and  administrators.  There  were  scores,  probably 
hundreds,  of  districts  in  Ireland  from  which  drink-shops  had 
long  totally  disappeared ;  and  had  there  been  at  the  time  any 
statutable  conservation  of  this  "  free-soil "  area,  three-fourths 
of  Father  Mathew's  work  would  have  endured  to  the  present 
hour.  But  what  happened  within  my  own  experience  and  ob- 
servation was  this.  When  the  Government  relief  works  were 
set  on  foot  all  over  the  kingdom,  close  by  every  pay-office  or 
depot  there  started  into  operation  a  meal-store  and  a  whisky- 
shop  ;  nay,  often  the  pay-clerks  and  road  staff  lodged  in  the 
latter  and  made  it  "headquarters."  Only  too  well  the 
wretched  people  knew  what  the  fire-water  would  do  for 


80  NEW  IRELAND. 

them ;  it  would  bring  them  oblivion  or  excitement,  in  which 
the  horror  and  despair  around  them  would  be  forgotten  for 
a  while.  In  many  a  tale  of  shipwreck  we  read  with  wonder 
that  at  the  last  dread  moment  the  crew  broached  the  spirit- 
casks  and  drank  till  delirium  came.  In  Ireland  the  starving 
people  seemed  possessed  by  some  similar  infatuation  when 
once  more  the  fatal  lure  was  set  up  before  them.  In  the 
track  of  the  Government  relief  staff,  and  specially  "  licensed" 
by  law,  the  drink-shops  reappeared,  and,  to  a  large  extent, 
reconquered  what  they  had  lost.  Not  wholly,  however. 
There  are  thousands  of  men  in  Ireland  to-day  who  "took 
the  pledge  from  Father  Mathew  "  and  hold  by  it  still.  There 
are  cities  and  towns  in  which  the  flag  has  never  been  hauled 
down,  and  where  its  adherents  are  now  as  numerous  as  ever. 
To  the  movement  of  Father  Mathew  is  owing,  moreover, 
that  public  opinion  in  favor  of  temperance  effort,  that  par- 
liamentary vote  in  favor  of  temperance  legislation,  which 
Ireland  has  so  notably  and  so  steadily  exhibited.  The  pure- 
souled  and  great-hearted  Capuchin  has  not  lived  and  labored 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN-." 

THERE  is  probably  no  subject  on  which  such  painful  mis- 
understanding and  bitter  recrimination  have  prevailed  be- 
tween the  peoples  of  England  and  Ireland  as  the  Irish  famine. 
The  enmities  and  antagonisms  arising  out  of  other  historical 
events  were,  at  all  events,  comprehensible.  The  havoc  and 
devastation  which  ensued  upon  the  Royalist-Cromwellian 
war  of  1641-1650,  the  confiscations  and  proscriptions  which 
followed  the  Stuart  struggle  in  1690,  the  insurrection  of 
1798,  and  the  overthrow  of  the  Irish  constitution  in  1800, 
were  causes  of  ire,  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  as  to  the 
reality  of  which  there  was  at  least  no  controversy.  But  it 
was  not  so  in  this  case.  The  English  people,  remembering 
only  the  sympathy  and  compassion  which  they  felt,  the 
splendid  contributions  which  they  freely  bestowed  in  that 
sad  time,  are  shocked  and  angered  beyond  endurance  when 
they  hear  Irishmen  refer  to  the  famine  as  a  "slaughter."  In 
Ireland,  on  the  other  hand,  the  burning  memory  of  horrors 
which  more  prompt  and  competent  action  on  the  part  of  the 
ruling  authorities  might  have  considerably  averted  seems  to 
overwhelm  all  other  recollection,  and  the  noble  generosity 
of  the  English  people  appears  to  be  forgotten  in  a  frenzy  of 
reproach  against  the  English  Government  of  that  day. 

I  know  not  whether  the  time  has  even  yet  arrived  when 
that  theme  can  be  fairly  treated,  and  when  a  calm  and  just 
apportionment  of  blame  and  merit  may  be  attempted.  To- 
day, full  thirty  years  after  the  event,  I  tremble  to  contem- 
plate it. 

4*  81 


82  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  1841  the  population  of  Ireland  was  8,175,124  souls. 
By  1845  it  had  probably  reached  to  nearly  nine  millions. 
The  increase  had  been  fairly  continuous  for  at  least  a  century, 
and  had  become  rapid  between  1820  and  1840.  To  any  one 
looking  beneath  the  surface  the  condition  of  the  country  was 
painfully  precarious.  Nine  millions  of  a  population  living 
at  best  in  a  light-hearted  and  hopeful  hand-to-mouth  con- 
tentment, totally  dependent  on  the  hazards  of  one  crop,  des- 
titute of  manufacturing  industries,  and  utterly  without  re- 
serve or  resource  to  fall  back  upon  in  time  of  reverse, — what 
did  all  this  mean  but  a  state  of  things  critical  and  alarming 
in  the  extreme  ?  Yet  no  one  seemed  conscious  of  danger. 
The  potato  crop  had  been  abundant  for  four  or  five  years,  and 
respite  from  dearth  and  distress  was  comparative  happiness 
and  prosperity.  Moreover,  the  temperance  movement  had 
come  to  make  the  "good  times"  still  better.  Everything 
looked  bright.  No  one  concerned  himself  to  discover  how 
slender  and  treacherous  was  the  foundation  for  this  general 
hopefulness  and  confidence. 

Yet  signs  of  the  coming  storm  had  been  given.  Partial 
famine  caused  by  failing  harvests  had  indeed  been  intermit- 
tent in  Ireland,  and  quite  recently  warnings  that  ought  not 
to  have  been  mistaken  or  neglected  had  given  notice  that  the 
esculent  which  formed  the  sole  dependence  of  the  peasant 
millions  was  subject  to  some  mysterious  blight.  In  1844  it 
was  stricken  in  America,  but  in  Ireland  the  yield  was  healthy 
and  plentiful  as  ever.  The  harvest  of  1845  promised  to  be 
the  richest  gathered  for  many  years.  Suddenly  in  one  short 
month,  in  one  week  it  might  be  said,  the  withering  breath 
of  a  simoom  seemed  to  sweep  the  land,  blasting  all  in  its  path. 
I  myself  saw  whole  tracts  of  potato  growth  changed  in  one 
night  from  smiling  luxuriance  to  a  shriveled  and  blackened 
waste.  A  shout  of  alarm  arose,  But  the  buoyant  nature  of 
the  Celtic  peasant  did  not  yet  give  way.  The  crop  was  so 
profuse  that  it  was  expected  the  healthy  portion  would  reach 
an  average  result.  Winter  revealed  the  alarming  fact  that 


"  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  83 

the  tubers  had  rotted  in  pit  and  store-house.  Nevertheless 
the  farmers,  like  hapless  men  who  double  their  stakes  to 
recover  losses,  made  only  the  more  strenuous  exertions  to  till 
a  larger  breadth  in  1846.  Although  already  feeling  the  pinch 
of  sore  distress,  if  not  actual  famine,  they  worked  as  if  for 
dear  life  ;  they  begged  and  borrowed  on  any  terms  the  means 
whereby  to  crop  the  land  once  more.  The  pawn-offices  were 
choked  with  the  humble  finery  that  had  shone  at  the  village 
dance  or  christening- feast ;  the  banks  and  local  money-lenders 
were  besieged  with  appeals  for  credit.  Meals  were  stinted, 
backs  were  bared.  Anything,  anything  to  tide  over  the 
interval  to  the  harvest  of  "Forty-six." 

Oh,  God,  it  is  a  dreadful  thought  that  all  this  effort  was 
but  more  surely  leading  them  to  ruin  !  It  was  this  harvest 
of  Forty-six  that  sealed  their  doom.  Not  partially,  but  com- 
pletely, utterly,  hopelessly,  it  perished.  As  in  the  previous 
year,  all  promised  brightly  up  to  the  close  of  July.  Then, 
suddenly,  in  a  night,  whole  areas  were  blighted ;  and  this 
time,  alas  !  no  portion  of  the  crop  escaped.  A  cry  of  agony 
and  despair  went  up  all  over  the  land.  The  last  desperate 
stake  for  life  had  been  played,  and  all  was  lost. 

The  doomed  people  realized  but  too  well  what  was  before 
them.  Last  year's  premonitory  sufferings  had  exhausted 
them ;  and  now  ? — they  must  die  ! 

My  native  district  figures  largely  in  the  gloomy  record  of 
that  dreadful  time.  I  saw  the  horrible  phantasmagoria — 
would  God  it  were  but  that ! — pass  before  my  eyes.  Blank 
stolid  dismay,  a  sort  of  stupor,  fell  upon  the  people,  con- 
trasting remarkably  with  the  fierce  energy  put  forth  a  year 
before.  It  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  the  cottier  and  his 
little  family  seated  on  the  garden-fence  gazing  all  day  long 
in  moody  silence  at  the  blighted  plot  that  had  been  their  last 
hope.  Nothing  could  arouse  them.  You  spoke ;  they  an- 
swered not.  You  tried  to  cheer  them ;  they  shook  their 
heads.  I  never  saw  so  sudden  and  so  terrible  a  transforma- 
tion. 


84  NEW  IRELAND. 

When  first  in  the  autumn  of  1845  the  partial  blight  ap- 
peared, wise  voices  were  raised  in  warning  to  the  Govern- 
ment that  a  frightful  catastrophe  was  at  hand  ;  yet  even  then 
began  that  fatal  circumlocution  and  inaptness  which  it  mad- 
dens one  to  think  of.  It  would  be  utter  injustice  to  deny 
that  the  Government  made  exertions  which  judged  by  ordi- 
nary emergencies  would  be  prompt  and  considerable.  But 
judged  by  the  awful  magnitude  of  the  evil  then  at  hand  or 
actually  befallen,  they  were  fatally  tardy  and  inadequate. 
When  at  length  the  executive  did  hurry,  the  blunders  of 
precipitancy  outdid  the  disasters  of  excessive  deliberation. 

In  truth  the  Irish  famine  was  one  of  those  stupendous 
calamities  which  the  rules  and  formulas  of  ordinary  constitu- 
tional administration  were  unable  to  cope  with,  and  which 
could  be  efficiently  encountered  only  by  the  concentration 
of  plenary  powers  and  resources  in  some  competent  "  des- 
potism" located  in  the  scene  of  disaster.  It  was  easy  to 
foresee  the  result  of  an  attempt  to  deal  "  at  long  range  "  with 
such  an  evil, — to  manage  it  from  Downing  Street,  London, 
according  to  orthodox  routine.  Again  and  again  the  Gov- 
ernment were  warned,  not  by  heedless  orators  or  popular 
leaders,  but  by  men  of  the  highest  position  and  soundest 
repute  in  Ireland,  that,  even  with  the  very  best  intentions  on 
their  part,  mistake  and  failure  must  abound  in  any  attempt 
to  grapple  with  the  famine  by  the  ordinary  machinery  of 
Government.  Many  efforts,  bold  and  able  efforts,  were  made 
by  the  Government  and  by  Parliament  eighteen  months  sub- 
sequently :  I  refer  especially  to  the  measures  taken  in  the 
session  of  1847.  But,  unfortunately,  everything  seemed  to 
come  too  late.  Delay  made  all  the  difference.  In  October, 
1845,  the  Irish  Mansion  House  Relief  Committee  implored 
the  Government  to  call  Parliament  together  and  throw  open 
the  ports.  The  Government  refused.  Again  and  again  the 
terrible  urgency  of  the  case,  the  magnitude  of  the  disaster  at 
hand,  was  pressed  on  the  executive.  It  was  the  obstinate 
refusal  of  Lord  John  Eussell  to  listen  to  these  remonstrances 


"  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  85 

and  entreaties,  and  the  sad  verification  subsequently  of  these 
apprehensions,  that  implanted  in  the  Irish  mind  the  bitter 
memories  which  still  occasionally  find  vent  in  passionate 
accusation  of  " England." 

Not  but  that  the  Government  had  many  and  weighty  ar- 
guments in  behalf  of  the  course  they  took.  First,  they 
feared  exaggeration,  and  waited  for  official  investigation  and 
report.*  Even  when  official  testimony  was  forthcoming, 
the  Cabinet  in  London  erred,  as  the  Irish  peasantry  did,  in 
trusting  somewhat  that  the  harvest  of  1846  would  change 
gloom  to  joy.  When  the  worst  came  in  1846-47,  much 
precious  time  was  lost  through  misunderstanding  and  re- 
crimination between  the  Irish  landlords  and  the  executive, 
— charges  of  neglect  of  duties  on  one  hand,  and  of  incapac- 
ity on  the  other,  passing  freely  to  and  fro.  No  doubt  the 
Government  feared  waste,  prodigality,  and  abuse  if  it  placed 
absolute  power  and  unlimited  supplies  in  the  hands  of  an 
Irish  board ;  and  one  must  allow  that,  to  a  commercial- 
minded  people,  the  violations  of  the  doctrines  of  political 
economy  involved  in  every  suggestion  and  demand  shouted 
across  the  Channel  from  Ireland  were  very  alarming.  Yet 

*  The  truth  is,  the  fight  over  the  Corn  Law  question  in  England  at 
the  time  was  peculiarly  unfortunate  for  Ireland  ;  because  the  protec- 
tionist press  and  politicians  felt  it  a  duty  strenuously  to  deny  there 
was  any  danger  of  famine,  lest  such  a  circumstance  should  be  made  a 
pretext  for  Free  Trade.  Thus,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  on  the  9th  of 
December,  1845,  speaking  at  the  Agricultural  Protection  Society,  said, 
"  With  respect  to  the  cry  of  '  Famine,'  he  believed  that  it  was  per- 
fectly illusory,  and  no  man  of  respectability  could  have  put  it  in  good 
faith  if  he  had  been  acquainted  with  the  facts  within  the  knowledge 
of  their  society." 

At  Warwick,  on  the  31st  of  December,  Mr.  Newdegate  carried  a  res- 
olution testifying  against  "  the  fallacy  and  mischief  of  the  reports  of  a 
deficient  harvest,"  and  affirming  that  "there  was  no  reasonable  ground 
for  apprehending  a  scarcity  of  food." 

Like  declarations  abounded  in  England  up  to  a  late  period  of  the 
famine,  and,  no  doubt,  considerably  retarded  the  prompt  action  of  the 
Government. 


86  NEW  IRELAND. 

in  the  end  it  was  found — all  too  late,  unfortunately — that 
those  doctrines  were  inapplicable  in  such  a  case.  They  had 
to  be  flung  aside  in  1847.  Had  they  been  discarded  a  year  or 
two  sooner,  a  million  of  lives  might  have  been  saved. 

The  situation  bristled  with  difficulties.  "Do  not  demor- 
alize the  people  by  pauper  doles,  but  give  them  employ- 
ment," said  one  counselor.  "Beware  how  you  interfere 
with  the  labor-market,"  answered  another.  "It  is  no  use 
voting  millions  to  be  paid  away  on  relief  works  while  you 
allow  the  price  of  food  to  be  run  up  four  hundred  per  cent.; 
set  up  Government  depots  for  sale  of  food  at  reasonable 
price,"  cried  many  wise  and  far-seeing  men.  "Utterly  op- 
posed to  the  teachings  of  Adam  Smith,"  responded  Lord 
John  Kussell. 

At  first  the  establishment  of  public  soup-kitchens  under 
local  relief  committees,  subsidized  by  Government,  was  relied 
upon  to  arrest  the  famine.  I  doubt  if  the  world  ever  saw  so 
huge  a  demoralization,  so  great  a  degradation,  visited  upon 
a  once  high-spirited  and  sensitive  people.  All  over  the 
country  large  iron  boilers  were  set  up  in  which  what  was 
called  "soup"  was  concocted, — later  on,  Indian-meal  stira- 
bout was  boiled.  Around  these  boilers  on  the  roadside  there 
daily  moaned  and  shrieked  and  fought  and  scuffled  crowds 
of  gaunt,  cadaverous  creatures  that  once  had  been  men  and 
women  made  in  the  image  of  God.  The  feeding  of  dogs  in 
a  kennel  was  far  more  decent  and  orderly.  I  once  thought 
— ay,  and  often  bitterly  said,  in  public  and  in  private — that 
never,  never  would  our  people  recover  the  shameful  humili- 
ation of  that  brutal  public  soup-boiler  scheme.  I  frequently 
stood  and  watched  the  scene  till  tears  blinded  me  and  I  al- 
most choked  with  grief  and  passion.  It  was  heart-breaking, 
almost  maddening,  to  see  ;  but  help  for  it  there  was  none. 

The  Irish  poor-law  system  early  broke  down  under  the 
strain  which  the  famine  imposed.  Until  1846  the  work- 
houses were  shunned  and  detested  by  the  Irish  poor.  Eelief 
of  destitution  had  always  been  regarded  by  the  Irish  as  a 


"  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  87 

sort  of  religious  duty  or  fraternal  succor.  Poverty  was  a 
misfortune,  not  a  crime.  When,  however,  relief  was  offered, 
on  the  penal  condition  of  an  imprisonment  that  sundered 
the  family  tie,  and  which,  by  destroying  home,  howsoever 
humble,  shut  out  all  hope  of  future  recovery,  it  was  indig- 
nantly spurned.  Scores  of  times  I  have  seen  some  poor 
widow  before  the  workhouse  board  clasp  her  little  children 
tightly  to  her  heart  and  sob  aloud,  "  No,  no,  your  honor. 
If  they  are  to  be  parted  from  me,  I'll  not  come  in.  I'll  beg 
the  wide  world  with  them." 

But  soon  beneath  the  devouring  pangs  of  starvation  even 
this  holy  affection  had  to  give  way,  and  the  famishing 
people  poured  into  the  workhouses,  which  soon  choked  with 
the  dying  and  the  dead.  Such  privations  had  been  endured 
in  every  case  before  this  hated  ordeal  was  faced,  that  the 
people  entered  the  Bastile  merely  to  die.  The  parting 
scenes  of  husband  and  wife,  father  and  mother  and  children, 
at  the  board-room  door  would  melt  a  heart  of  stone.  Too 
well  they  felt  it  was  to  be  an  eternal  severance,  and  that  this 
loving  embrace  was  to  be  their  last  on  earth.  The  warders 
tore  them  asunder, — the  husband  from  the  wife,  the  mother 
from  the  child, — for  "  discipline  "  required  that  it  should 
be  so.  But,  with  the  famine-fever  in  every  ward,  and  the 
air  around  them  laden  with  disease  and  death,  they  knew 
their  fate,  and  parted  like  victims  at  the  foot  of  the  guillo- 
tine. 

It  was  not  long  until  the  workhouses  overflowed  and  could 
admit  no  more.  Rapidly  as  the  death-rate  made  vacancies, 
the  pressure  of  applicants  overpowered  all  resources.  Worse 
still,  bankruptcy  came  on  many  a  union.  In  some  the  poor- 
rate  rose  to  twenty-two  shillings  on  the  pound,  and  very 
nearly  the  entire  rural  population  of  several  were  needing 
relief.  In  a  few  cases,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  the  horrible  idea 
seemed  to  seize  the  land-owners  on  the  boards  that  all  rates 
would  be  ineffectual,  and  that,  as  their  imposition  would 
result  only  in  ruining  "property,"  it  was  as  well  to  "let 


88  NEW  IRELAND. 

tilings  take  their  course."  Happily  an  act  of  Parliament 
was  passed  in  1846  which  gave  the  poor-law  commissioners 
in  Dublin  power  to  deal  with  cases  of  delay  or  refusal  to 
make  adequate  provision  for  maintenance  of  the  Avorkhouse. 
All  such  boards  were  abolished  by  sealed  order,  and  paid 
vice-guardians  were  appointed  in  their  place.  To  these,  as 
well  as  to  elected  boards  willing  to  face  their  duty,  the  com- 
missioners were  empowered  to  advance,  by  way  of  loan,  se- 
cured on  the  lands  within  the  union,  funds  sufficient  to 
carry  on  the  poor-law  system.  Had  it  not  been  for  this 
arrangement,  the  workhouses  would  have  closed  altogether 
in  many  parts  of  the  country. 

The  conduct  of  the  Irish  landlords  throughout  the  famine- 
period  has  been  variously  described,  and  has  been,  I  believe, 
generally  condemned.  I  consider  the  censure  visited  on 
them  too  sweeping.  I  hold  it  to  be  in  some  respects  cruelly 
unjust.  On  many  of  them  no  blame  too  heavy  could  possibly 
fall.  A  large  number  were  permanent  absentees  ;  their  ranks 
were  swelled  by  several  who  early  fled  the  post  of  duty  at 
home, — cowardly  and  selfish  deserters  of  a  brave  and  faithful 
people.  Of  those  who  remained,  some  may  have  grown 
callous :  it  is  impossible  to  contest  authentic  instances  of 
brutal  heartlessness  here  and  there.  But,  granting  all  that 
has  to  be  entered  on  the  dark  debtor  side,  the  overwhelming 
balance  is  the  other  way.  The  bulk  of  the  resident  Irish 
landlords  manfully  did  their  best  in  that  dread  hour.*  If 
they  did  too  little  compared  with  what  the  landlord  class  in 
England  would  have  done  in  similar  case,  it  was  because 
little  was  in  their  power.  The  famine  found  most  of  the 

*  No  adequate  tribute  has  ever  been  paid  to  the  memory  of  those 
Irish  landlords — and  they  were  men  of  every  party  and  creed — who 
perished  martyrs  to  duty  in  that  awful  time  ;  who  did  not  fly  the 
plague-reeking  workhouse  or  fever-tainted  court.  Their  names  would 
make  a  goodly  roll  of  honor.  The  people  of  Bantry  still  mourn  for 
Mr.  Richard  White,  of  Inchiclogh,  cousin  of  Lord  Bantry,  who  early 
fell  in  this  way.  Mr.  Martin,  M.  P.,—"  Dick  Martin,"  Prince  of  Con- 


"  TEE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  89 

resident  landed  gentry  of  Ireland  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  They 
were  heritors  of  estates  heavily  overweighted  with  the  debts 
of  a  bygone  generation.  Broad  lands  and  lordly  mansions 
were  held  by  them  on  settlements  and  conditions  that 
allowed  small  scope  for  the  exercise  of  individual  liberality. 
To  these  landowners  the  failure  of  one  year's  rental  receipts 
meant  mortgage-foreclosure  and  hopeless  ruin.  Yet  cases 
might  be  named  by  the  score  in  which  such  men  scorned  to 
avert  by  pressure  on  their  suffering  tenantry  the  fate  they 
saw  impending  over  them.  They  "went  down  with  the 
ship." 

In  the  autumn  of  1846  relief  works  were  set  on  foot,  the 
Government  having  received  parliamentary  authority  to 
grant  baronial  loans  for  such  undertakings.  There  might 
have  been  found  many  ways  of  applying  these  funds  in  repro- 
ductive employment,  but  the  modes  decided  on  were  drain- 
ing and  road-making.  Of  course  it  was  not  possible  to  pro- 
vide very  rapidly  the  engineering  staff  requisite  for  surveying 
and  laying  out  so  many  thousands  of  new  roads  all  over  the 
country  ;  but  eventually  the  scheme  was  somehow  hurried 
into  operation.  The  result  was  in  every  sense  deplorable 
failure.  The  wretched  people  were  by  this  time  too  wasted 
and  emaciated  to  work.  The  endeavor  to  do  so  under  an 
inclement  winter  sky  only  hastened  death.  They  tottered 
at  daybreak  to  the  roll-call,  vainly  tried  to  wheel  the  bar- 
row or  ply  the  pick,  but  fainted  away  on  the  "  cutting,"  or 
lay  down  on  the  wayside  to  rise  no  more.  As  for  the  "  roads  " 
on  which  so  much  money  was  wasted,  and  on  which  so  many 
lives  were  sacrificed,  hardly  any  of  them  were  finished. 
Miles  of  grass-grown  earthworks  throughout  the  country 

nemara, — caught  fever  while  acting  as  a  magistrate,  and  was  swept 
away.  One  of  the  most  touching  stories  I  ever  heard  was  that  told 
me  by  an  eye-witness  of  how  Mr.  Nolan,  of  Ballinderry  (father  of 
Captain  J.  P.  Nolan,  M.  P.),  craving  the  deadly  typhus  in  Tuam 
workhouse,  was  struck  down,  amidst  the  grief  of  a  people  who  mourn 
him  to  this  day. 


90  NEW  IRELAND. 

now  mark  their  course  and  commemorate  for  posterity  one 
of  the  gigantic  blunders  of  the  famine-time. 

The  first  remarkable  sign  of  the  havoc  which  death  was 
making  was  the  decline  and  disappearance  of  funerals. 
Among  the  Irish  people  a  funeral  was  always  a  great  dis- 
play, and  participation  in  the  procession  was  for  all  neigh- 
bors and  friends  a  sacred  duty.  A  "poor  "  funeral that 

is,  one  thinly  attended— was  considered  disrespectful  to  the 
deceased  and  reproachful  to  the  living.  The  humblest  peas- 
ant was  borne  to  the  grave  by  a  parochial  cortege.  But  one 
could  observe  in  the  summer  of  '46  that,  as  funerals  became 
more  frequent,  there  was  a  rapid  decline  in  the  number  of 
attendants,  until  at  length  persons  were  stopped  on  the  road 
and  requested  to  assist  in  conveying  the  coffin  a  little  way 
farther.  Soon,  alas!  neither  coffin  nor  shroud  could  be 
supplied.  Daily  in  the  street  and  on  the  footway  some  poor 
creature  lay  down  as  if  to  sleep,  and  presently  was  stiff  and 
stark.  In  our  district  it  was  a  common  occurrence  to  find 
on  opening  the  front  door  in  early  morning,  leaning  against 
it,  the  corpse  of  some  victim  who  in  the  night-time  had 
"rested"  in  its  shelter.  We  raised  a  public  subscription, 
and  employed  two  men  with  horse  and  cart  to  go  round  each 
day  and  gather  up  the  dead.  One  by  one  they  were  taken 
to  a  great  pit  at  Ardnabrahair  Abbey,  and  dropped  through 
the  hinged  bottom  of  a  "trap-coffin  "  into  a  common  grave 
below.  In  the  remoter  rural  districts  even  this  rude  sepul- 
ture was  impossible.  In  the  field  and  by  the  ditch-side  the 
victims  lay  as  they  fell,  till  some  charitable  hand  was  found 
to  cover  them  with  the  adjacent  soil. 

It  was  the  fever  which  supervened  on  the  famine  that 
wrought  the  greatest  slaughter  and  spread  the  greatest  terror. 
For  this  destroyer  when  it  came  spared  no  class,  rich  or  poor. 
As  long  as  it  was  "  the  hunger"  alone  that  raged,  it  was  no 
deadly  peril  to  visit  the  sufferers ;  but  not  so  now.  To  come 
within  the  reach  of  this  contagion  was  certain  death.  Whole 
families  perished  unvisited  and  unassisted.  By  leveling 


"  THE  BLACK  FOBTY-SEVEN."  91 

above  their  corpses  the  sheeling  in  which  they  died,  the 
neighbors  gave  them  a  grave.* 

No  pen  can  trace  nor  tongue  relate  the  countless  deeds  of 
heroism  and  self-sacrifice  which  this  dreadful  visitation 
called  forth  on  the  part,  pre-eminently,  of  two  classes  in 
the  community, — the  Catholic  clergy  and  the  dispensary 
doctors  of  Ireland.  I  have  named  the  Catholic  clergy,  not 
that  those  of  the  Protestant  denominations  did  not  furnish 
many  instances  of  devotion  fully  as  striking,!  but  because 
on  the  former  obviously  fell  the  brunt  of  the  trial.  For 
them  there  was  no  flinching.  A  call  to  administer  the  last 
rites  of  religion  to  the  inmate  of  a  plague- ward  or  fever-shed 
must  be,  and  is,  obeyed  by  the  Catholic  priest,  though  death 
to  himself  be  the  well-known  consequence.  The  fatality 
among  the  two  classes  I  have  mentioned,  clergymen  and 
doctors,  was  lamentable.  Christian  heroes,  martyrs  for 
humanity,  their  names  are  blazoned  on  no  courtly  roll ;  yet 
shall  they  shine  upon  an  eternal  page,  brighter  than  the 
stars  ! 

*I  myself  assisted  in  such,  a  task,  under  heart-rending  circum- 
stances, in  June,  1847. 

f  The  Protestant  curate  of  my  native  parish  in  1847  was  the  Rev. 
Alexander  Ben  Hallowell,  subsequently  rector  of  Clonakilty,  and  now 
I  believe  residing  somewhere  in  Lancashire.  There  were  compara- 
tively few  of  his  own  flock  in  a  way  to  suffer  from  the  famine  ;  but 
he  dared  death  daily  in  his  desperate  efforts  to  save  the  perishing 
creatures  around  him.  A  poor  hunchback  named  Richard  O'Brien 
lay  dying  of  the  plague  in  a  deserted  hovel  at  a  place  called  "the 
Custom  Gap."  Mr.  Hallowell,  passing  by,  heard  the  moans,  and  went 
in.  A  shocking  sight  met  his  view.  On  some  rotten  straw  in  a  dark 
corner  lay  poor  "  Dick,"  naked,  except  for  a  few  rags  across  his  body. 
Mr.  Hallowell  rushed  to  the  door  and  saw  a  young  friend  on  the  road. 
"  Run,  run  with  this  shilling  and  buy  me  some  wine,"  he  cried.  Then 
he  re-entered  the  hovel,  stripped  off  his  own  clothes,  and  with  his 
own  hands  put  upon  the  plague-stricken  hunchback  the  flannel  vest 
and  drawers  and  the  shirt  of  which  he  had  just  divested  himself.  I 
know  this  to  be  true.  /  was  the  " young  friend"  who  went  for  and 
brought  the  wine. 


92  NEW  IRELAND. 

But  even  this  dark  cloud  of  the  Irish  famine  had  its  silver 
lining.  If  it  is  painful  to  recall  the  disastrous  errors  of 
irresolution  and  panic,  one  can  linger  gratefully  over  memo- 
ries of  Samaritan  philanthropy,  of  efficacious  generosity, 
of  tenderest  sympathy.  The  people  of  England  behaved 
nobly ;  and  assuredly  not  less  munificent  were  the  citizens 
of  the  great  American  Eepublic,  which  had  already  become 
the  home  of  thousands  of  the  Irish  race.  From  every  con- 
siderable town  in  England  there  poured  subscriptions, 
amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
pounds.  From  America  came  a  truly  touching  demonstra- 
tion of  national  sympathy.  Some  citizens  of  the  States 
contributed  two  ship-loads  of  breadstuffs,  and  the  American 
Government  decided  to  furnish  the  ships  which  should 
bring  the  offering  to  the  Irish  shore.  Accordingly,  two  war- 
vessels,  the  "Macedonian"  and  the  "Jamestown"  frigates, 
having  had  their  armaments  removed,  their  "gun-decks" 
displaced  and  cargo  bulkheads  put  up,  were  filled  to  the 
gunwale  with  best  American  flour  and  biscuits,  and  dis- 
patched on  their  errand  of  mercy.  It  happened  that  just 
previously  the  British  naval  authorities  had  rather  strictly 
refused  the  loan  of  a  ship  for  a  like  purpose,  as  being  quite 
opposed  to  all  departmental  regulations  (which,  to  be  sure, 
it  was),  and  a  good  deal  of  angry  feeling  was  called  forth  by 
the  refusal.  Yet  had  it  a  requiting  contrast  in  the  dispatch 
from  England,  by  voluntary  associations  there,  of  several 
deputations  or  embassies  of  succor,  charged  to  visit  person- 
ally the  districts  in  Ireland  most  severely  afflicted,  and  to  dis- 
tribute with  their  own  hands  the  benefactions  they  wrought. 

Foremost  in  this  blessed  work  were  the  Society  of  Friends, 
the  English  members  of  that  body  co-operating  with  its  cen- 
tral committee  in  Dublin.  Among  the  most  active  and  fear- 
less of  their  representatives  was  a  young  Yorkshire  Quaker, 
whose  name,  I  doubt  not,  is  still  warmly  remembered  by 
Connemara  peasants.  He  drove  from  village  to  village,  he 
walked  bog  and  moor,  rowed  the  lake  and  climbed  the  moun- 


"  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  93 

tain,  fought  death,  as  it  were,  hand  to  hand,  in  brave  reso- 
lution to  save  the  people.  His  correspondence  from  the 
scene  of  his  labors  would  constitute  in  itself  a  graphic  memo- 
rial of  the  Irish  famine.  That  young  "Yorkshire  Quaker" 
of  1847  was  destined  a  quarter  of  a  century  later  to  be  known 
to  the  empire  as  a  minister  of  the  Crown — the  Eight  Hon. 
W.  E.  Forster,  M.P. 

In  truth,  until  the  appearance  a  few  years  since  of  the 
Eev.  Mr.  O'Rorke's  excellent  volume,  the  "History  of  the 
Irish  Famine,"  the  only  competent  record  of  the  events  of 
that  time  was  the  "  Report  of  the  Society  of  Friends'  Irish 
Relief  Committee."  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  traveler 
who  now  visits  the  west  and  south  of  Ireland,  and  seeks  to 
gather  from  the  people  reminiscences  of  the  famine-time, 
will  find  praise  and  blame  a  good  deal  mingled  as  to  nearly 
every  other  relief  agency  of  the  period,  but  naught  save 
grateful  recollection  of  the  unostentatious,  kindly,  prompt, 
generous,  and  efficacious  action  of  the  Friends'  committee. 
Fondly  as  the  Catholic  Irish  revere  the  memory  of  their  own 
priests  who  suffered  with  and  died  for  them  in  that  fearful 
time,  they  give  a  place  in  their  prayers  to  the  "good  Qua- 
kers, God  bless  them,"  Jonathan  Pirn,  Richard  Allen,  Rich- 
ard Webb,  and  William  Edward  Forster. 

The  Irish  famine  of  1847  had  results,  social  and  political, 
that  constitute  it  one  of  the  most  important  events  in  Irish 
history  for  more  than  twe  hundred  years.  It  is  impossible 
for  any  one  who  knew  the  country  previous  to  that  period, 
and  who  has  thoughtfully  studied  it  since,  to  avoid  the  con- 
clusion that  so  much  has  been  destroyed,  or  so  greatly 
changed,  that  the  Ireland  of  old  times  will  be  seen  no  more. 

The  losses  will,  I  would  fain  hope,  be  in  a  great  degree  re- 
paired, the  gains  entirely  retained.  Yet  much  that  was 
precious  was  engulfed,  I  fear,  beyond  recovery.  "  Here  are 
twenty  miles  of  country,  sir,"  said  a  dispensary  doctor  to  me, 
"and  before  the  famine  there  was  not  a  padlock  from  end  to 
end  of  it."  Under  the  pressure  of  hunger,  ravenous  crea- 


94  NEW  IRELAND. 

tures  prowled  around  barn  and  store-house,  stealing  corn, 
potatoes,  cabbage,  turnips — anything,  in  a  word,  that  might 
be  eaten.  Later  on,  the  fields  had  to  be  watched,  gun  in 
hand,  or  the  seed  was  rooted  up  and  devoured  raw.  This 
state  of  things  struck  a  fatal  blow  at  some  of  the  most 
beautiful  traits  of  Irish  rural  life.  It  destroyed  the  simple 
confidence  that  bolted  no  door ;  it  banished  forever  a  custom 
which  throughout  the  island  was  of  almost  universal  obliga- 
tion— the  housing  for  the  night,  with  cheerful  welcome,  of 
any  poor  wayfarer  who  claimed  hospitality.  Fear  of  "the 
fever,"  even  where  no  apprehension  of  robbery  was  enter- 
tained, closed  every  door,  and  the  custom,  once  killed  off, 
has  not  revived.  A  thousand  kindly  usages  and  neighborly 
courtesies  were  swept  away.  When  sauve  qui  pent  has  re- 
sounded throughout  a  country  for  three  years  of  alarm  and 
disaster,  human  nature  becomes  contracted  in  its  sympathies, 
and  "every  one  for  himself"  becomes  a  maxim  of  life  and 
conduct  long  after.  The  open-handed,  open-hearted  ways 
of  the  rural  population  have  been  visibly  affected  by  the 
"Forty-seven"  ordeal.  Their  ancient  sports  and  pastimes 
everywhere  disappeared,  and  in  many  parts  of  Ireland  have 
never  returned.  The  out-door  games,  the  hurling-match, 
and  the  village  dance  are  seen  no  more. 

With  the  greater  seriousness  of  character  which  the  fam- 
ine-period has  imprinted  on  the  Irish  people,  some  notable 
changes  for  the  better  must  be  recognized.  Providence,  fore- 
thought, economy,  are  studied  and  valued  as  they  never 
were  before.  There  is  more  method,  strictness,  and  punctu- 
ality in  business  transactions.  There  is  a  graver  sense  of 
responsibility  on  all  hands.  For  the  first  time  the  future 
seems  to  be  earnestly  thought  of,  and  its  possible  vicissitudes 
kept  in  view.  More  steadiness  of  purpose,  more  firmness  and 
determination  of  character,  mark  the  Irish  peasantry  of  the 
new  era.  God  has  willed  that  in  the  midst  of  such  awful 
sufferings  some  share  of  blessings  should  fall  on  the  sorely- 
shattered  nation. 


CHAPTER   VIL 

"YOUNG  IBELAND." 

FLETCHEB  of  Saltonn  is  credited  with  the  saying,  "  Let 
me  make  the  ballads,  and  let  whoso  will  make  the  laws." 
No  doubt  it  was  through  ballads  popular  feeling  was  moved 
and  developed  in  those  days.  If  Fletcher  lived  now,  he 
would  say,  "  Let  me  use  the  printing-press,  and  let  who 
pleases  be  premier." 

Whoever  attentively  studies  the  changes  in  Irish  political 
life — in  its  modes  of  thought  and  action — within  the  past 
forty  years,  must  assign  an  important  place  among  the  fac- 
tors in  those  changes  to  that  school  of  politician-litterateurs 
known  as  "Young  Ireland."  Their  name  and  fate  as  a 
party  are,  unfortunately  for  them,  so  generally  associated 
with  one  disastrous  incident  of  their  political  career — the 
insurrectionary  attempt  of  1848 — that  an  erroneous  idea  is 
acquired  of  their  real  status,  aims,  and  policy ;  an  unjust 
estimate  is  formed  of  their  labors. 

"  Young  Ireland,"  so  called,  was  a  section  or  offshoot  of 
O'Connell's  Repeal  party,  the  latter  being  antithetically  des- 
ignated "Old  Ireland."  "Young"  and  "Old,"  however, 
they  were  alike  Repealers ;  that  is,  their  great  political  ob- 
ject, the  cardinal  doctrine  of  their  creed,  was  the  reposses- 
sion by  Ireland  of  the  native  legislature  wrenched  from  her 
by  Pitt  in  1800.  But  many  notable  circumstances  marked 
the  Young  Irelanders  as  a  totally  new  school  in  Irish  poli- 
tics. They  first,  within  our  generation,  essayed  as  a  party 
the  task  of  purifying  the  political  atmosphere,  of  rendering 
Irish  parliamentary  action  something  better  and  nobler  than 

95 


96  NEW  IRELAND. 

a  venal  scramble  for  place,  or  an  abject  servitude  of  faction. 
They  first  taught  the  doctrine  that  the  people  should  be  ap- 
pealed to  in  their  intelligence  rather  than  impelled  through 
their  prejudices.  They  boldly  proclaimed  that  individual 
responsibility  and  self-reliance  should  take  the  place  of  utter 
dependence  on  leaders,  lay  or  clerical.  They  first  seized 
upon  the  printing-press  and  the  school  as  the  great  agencies 
of  popular  enfranchisement.  The  motto  on  their  banner 
epitomized  their  creed  and  indicated  the  means  and  end  of 
their  policy  :  ''Educate  that  you  may  be  free." 

Forty  years  ago  the  typical  Irish  representative  was  still 
in  a  large  degree  the  swaggering,  horse-racing,  duel-fighting, 
hard-drinking,  spendthrift  style  of  patriot  portrayed  by  the 
pen  of  Charles  Lever.  The  time  had  not  yet  come  when 
personal  integrity  and  purity  of  private  life  and  character 
were  weighed  in  estimating  a  man's  title  to  public  confidence 
and  esteem.  The  "popular  member"  in  those  days  was 
returned  by  a  combination  of  patriotic  enthusiasm  and  re- 
ligious influence,  supplemented  by  the  necessary  amount  of 
bribery  and  intimidation.  As  to  these,  "the  other  side  be- 
gan first "  of  course ;  and  then  the  distribution  of  five-pound 
notes  and  whisky  ad  libitum  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
breaking  of  skulls  with  shillelaghs  on  the  other,  completed 
the  popular  victory.  Moreover,  the  "patronage"  custom- 
arily vested  in  a  member  of  Parliament  at  the  time  was  ex- 
tensive in  small  things.  The  post-office  and  the  revenue, 
the  army  and  the  navy,  were,  to  a  great  extent,  the  spoil  of 
party.  The  minister  flung  patronage  to  his  lobby  adherents ; 
and  these  shared  or  dispensed  it  among  their  hustings'  par- 
tisans. Political  independence,  as  we  understand  it,  was 
unknown.  The  schools  had  not  yet  sent  forth  their  youth- 
ful battalions  ;  the  newspaper  was  an  expensive  luxury. 
The  reading-room  and  mechanics'  institute  were  not  yet 
born.  The  lecture  was  unknown.  Yet  in  all  respects  it 
may  be  said  that  things  were  "on  the  turn,"  when  an  event 
in  1843  ushered  in  a  new  era. 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND."  97 

The  Repeal  Association  of  O'Connell  was  worked  in  large 
part  by  his  "Old  Guard"  of  the  Catholic  Emancipation 
campaign, — men  who  were,  more  or  less,  of  the  old  school. 
But  the  movement  early  attracted  to  it  some  of  the  most 
gifted  and  brilliant  of  the  young  men  who  were  just  then 
emerging  from  college  and  university  life  into  the  bustle  and 
activity  of  an  exciting  time  in  public  affairs.  Affinity  of 
tastes,  college  companionship,  community  of  feeling,  brought 
these  youthful  Repealers  together  as  a  distinct  "set"  or  sec- 
tion in  the  association.  Their  mindg  were  fresh  from  the 
study  of  classic  models  in  civic  virtue,  in  love  of  country, 
in  public  heroism.  They  became  inspired  with  the  great 
ambition  of  giving  a  new  character,  a  purer  tone,  and  a 
bolder  direction  to  the  national  movement. 

Three  of  these  young  men — Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  Thomas 
Osborne  Davis,  and  John  Blake  Dillon — were  strolling  in  the 
Phoenix  Park  one  fine  summer  evening  in  1842.  They  dis- 
cussed the  prospects  of  the  Repeal  cause  and  the  caliber  of 
the  men  directing  it,  the  newspaper  press,  such  as  it  was, 
and  O'Connell's  relations  with  that  section  of  it  which  sup- 
ported the  association.  They  complained  that  there  was  no 
attempt  at  the  intellectual  development  or  political  educa- 
tion of  the  popular  mind,  and  dwelt  upon  the  fact  that  in  a 
few  years  more  the  public  schools  would  be  sending  forth 
some  tens  of  thousands  of  young  people  able  to  read  and 
write.  They  debated  the  great  question,  "  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  "  They  answered  that  question  by  agreeing  that  the 
first  thing  necessary  was  to  start  a  weekly  newspaper  as  the 
exponent  and  policy  of  a  new  school  of  politics.  Duffy  was 
already  a  journalist.  Though  young  in  years,  he  filled  an 
honorable  place  in  public  confidence  as  editor  of  the  Belfast 
Vindicator.  He  was  the  man  to  whom  they  looked  to  play 
the  leading  part  in  this  ambitious  scheme.  Seated  under  a 
tree  in  the  Phoenix  Park,  the  three  friends  decided  to  start 
the  Nation  newspaper,  which  issued  its  first  number  on  the 
15th  of  October,  1842. 
5 


98  NEW  IRELAND. 

The  journal  thus  founded  was  destined  to  play  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  subsequent  political  history  of  Ireland.  It 
was  not  a  newspaper  so  much  as  a  great  popular  educator,  a 
counselor  and  guide.  Its  office  was  a  sort  of  bureau  of  na- 
tional affairs,  political,  literary,  industrial,  and  artistic.  Its 
editorial  room  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  "  youthful  enthu- 
siasts," as  the  old-school  politicians  called  them, — orators, 
poets,  writers,  artists.  In  the  pages  of  the  Nation  fervid 
prose  and  thrilling  verse,  literary  essay  and  historical  ballad, 
were  all  pressed  into  the  service  of  Irish  nationality.  The 
effect  was  beyond  all  anticipation.  The  country  seemed  to 
awaken  to  a  new  life  ;  "  a  soul  had  come  into  Erin." 

Emboldened  by  the  success  of  this  first  overt  act,  they 
struck  out  into  other  fields  of  labor,  and  determined  to  sup- 
ply Ireland  with  a  cheap  popular  literature,  at  once  enter- 
taining and  educational.  "  Duffy's  Library  of  Ireland,"  a 
monthly  issue  of  shilling  volumes,  was  the  result.  Even  if 
they  had  done  no  more,  this  would  be  no  unworthy  monu- 
ment of  their  zeal  for  the  moral  and  intellectual  as  well  as 
the  political  education  of  the  people. 

They  were  pre-eminently  the  party  of  religious  tolerance. 
The  leading  idea  in  what  may  be  called  their  home  policy 
was  to  break  down  the  antagonism  between  Catholics  and 
Protestants  in  Ireland.  In  this  they  were  long  before  their 
time.  The  experiment,  however,  was  bravely  tried.  In 
many  a  song  and  many  an  essay  they  preached  the  union  of 
classes  and  creeds. 


What  matter  that  at  different  shrines 

We  pray  unto  one  God  ? 
What  matter  that  at  different  times 

Our  fathers  won  this  sod  ? 
In  fortune  and  in  name  we're  bound 

By  stronger  links  than  steel ; 
And  neither  can  be  safe  or  sound 

But  in  the  other's  weal. 


"YOUNG  IRELAND."  99 

"  And  oh,  it  were  a  gallant  deed 

To  show  before  mankind 
How  every  race  and  every  creed 

Might  be  by  love  combined, — 
Might  be  combined,  yet  not  forget 

The  fountains  whence  they  rose, 
As  fill'd  by  many  a  rivulet 

The  stately  Shannon  flows." 

Thus  pleaded  Davis  in  the  Nation.  More  boldly  still  he 
addressed  himself  to  his  fellow-Protestants  of  Ulster, — the 
Orangemen  of  the  North : 

' '  Rusty  the  swords  our  fathers  unsheathed, 

William  and  James  are  turn'd  to  clay  ; 
Long  did  we  till  the  wrath  they  bequeathed  ; 
Red  was  the  crop  and  bitter  the  pay. 

Freedom  fled  us ; 

Knaves  misled  us ; 
Under  the  feet  of  the  foemen  we  lay  ; 

But  in  their  spite 

The  Irish  unite, 
For  Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day." 

All  in  vain.  As  remote  as  the  millennium  seemed  the 
day  when  Orange  and  Green  would  cease  to  wave  over  op- 
posing hosts  arrayed  in  deadly  hate  and  fiercest  hostility. 

Meantime,  with  a  vigor  that  quite  astonished  observers, 
the  Young  Irelanders  addressed  themselves  to  the  equally 
formidable  task  of  reforming  certain  of  the  ideas  and  usages 
of  Irish  politics.  They  execrated  place-begging,  denied  that 
"  good  appointments  for  Catholics  "  should  be  considered  the 
showering  of  blessings  on  Ireland,  and  denounced  the  prac- 
tice of  "popular  members"  of  shady  character  presenting 
stained-glass  windows  and  altar-gongs  to  the  Catholic  chapels 
whenever  a  general  election  was  at  hand.  Above  all,  they 
dared  to  say  that  the  traffic  in  tidewaiterships  and  postmas- 
terships  and  treasury-clerkships  was  demoralizing,  and  should 
be  put  down.  It  was  little  less  than  a  revolution  these  men 


100  NEW  IBELAND. 

attempted  in  the  whole  system  of  Irish  politics.  O'Connell 
himself  they  greatly  revered  :  they  accepted  his  policy,  were 
loyal  to  his  authority,  were  grateful  for  his  services.  But 
they  waged  unconcealed  war  with  the  class  of  men  who,  in  a 
great  degree,  surrounded  him,  and  with  the  low  tone  of  pub- 
lic morality  which  then  seemed  prevalent.  The  regenerated 
Ireland  of  their  dreams  was  not  to  arise  under  such  influences 
as  these.  They  preached  the  need  of  better  men  and  a  bolder 
policy,  and  strongly  impressed  on  the  people  that  if  they 
valued  national  liberty  they  must  cultivate  the  virtues  with- 
out which  such  a  blessing  would  fly  their  grasp. 

"  For  Freedom  comes  from  God's  right  hand, 

And  needs  a  godly  train  : 
'Tis  righteous  men  can  make  our  land 
A  Nation  once  again." 

So  sang  the  bard  of  the  party.     So  spoke  all  its  orators. 

Such  was  Young  Ireland  in  its  early  career.  Of  the  men 
who  founded  or  constituted  that  party  more  than  thirty  years 
ago  few  now  survive.  Nearly  all  have  passed  away ;  and 

"  Their  graves  are  sever'd  far  and  wide 
By  mountain,  stream,  and  sea." 

Duffy — now  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  of  Melbourne — has 
been  Prime  Minister  of  Victoria,  and  is  perhaps  the  ablest 
and  most  statesmanlike  man  at  present  in  public  life  at  the 
antipodes.  Darcy  McGee,  foully  slain  by  an  assassin's  bullet 
at  Ottawa  in  1868,  had  also  won,  as  a  minister  of  the  Crown  in 
the  free  self-governed  Dominion  of  Canada,  a  notable  recog- 
nition of  his  splendid  abilities.  Meagher,  the  silver-tongued 
orator  of  Young  Ireland,  after  a  career  full  of  vicissitudes, 
was  United  States  Governor  of  Montana  Territory  when  he 
accidentally  perished  in  the  rapids  of  the  Missouri.  Davis 
died  early,  yet  not  before  he  had  filled  Ireland  with  admira- 
tion for  his  genius  and  love  for  his  virtues.  Dillon  died  in 
1866,  member  of  Parliament  for  Tipperary  County.  Martin 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND."  101 

and  Ronayne  are  recent  losses,  having  fallen  in  harness  as 
parliamentary  representatives.  Mitchel  irreconcilable  and 
defiant  to  the  last,  returned  to  Ireland  in  1875,  and  died 
"in  the  arms  of  victory"  as  "member  for  Tipperary." 
O'Brien,  the  leader  of  the  party,  sleeps  in  the  family  mauso- 
leum at  Rathronan ;  but  on  the  most  prominent  site  in  the 
Irish  metropolis  his  countrymen  have  raised  a  noble  statue 
to  perpetuate  his  memory.  Richard  O'Gorman  enjoys  in 
New  York  fame  and  fortune  honorably  achieved  in  the  land 
of  his  adoption.  Kevin  Izod  O'Doherty  is  now  a  prominent 
member  of  the  Queensland  legislature.  Michael  Doheny,  a 
man  of  rare  gifts  as  a  writer  and  speaker,  died  sadly  in  New 
York.  Richard  Dalton  Williams,  the  gentle  bard  of  many 
an  exquisite  lay,  reposes  in  a  distant  Louisiana  grave.  Denny 
Lane,  poet  and  politician,  happily  still  thinks  and  feels  for 
Ireland  in  his  pleasant  home  by  the  Lee.  Besides  these  there 
might  be  named  a  goodly  company  of  the  less  political  and 
more  literary  type  :  John  O'Hagan,  now  judge  of  a  county 
court  in  Ireland  ;  Samuel  Ferguson,  now  Deputy  Keeper  of 
the  Rolls ;  Denis  Florence  MacCarthy,  D.  MacNevin,  Rev. 
Charles  Meehan,  John  Edward  Pigott,  Michael  J.  Barry, 
James  Clarence  Mangan,  and  John  Kells  Ingram,  LL.D., 
now  a  fellow  of  Trinity  College,  whose  famous  lyric,  "  Who 
fears  to  speak  of  Ninety-eight  ?  "  is  the  best  known  of  all 
the  seditious  poetry  of  Young  Ireland. 

But  the  roll  were  incomplete  indeed  if  from  it  were  omit- 
ted three  women  who  gave  to  Irish  national  poetry  of  the 
Young  Ireland  era  its  most  striking  characteristics  :  "Eva," 
"Mary,"  and  "  Speranza." 

Eva  Mary  Kelly  was  the  daughter  of  a  County  Galway 
gentleman,  and  could  have  been  little  more  than  a  girl 
when  the  contributions  bearing  her  pseudonym  began  to 
attract  attention.  A  good  idea  of  the  Young  Ireland  poetry 
— at  all  events  of  the  Young  Ireland  poetesses — may  be  gath- 
ered from  one  of  her  early  contributions, — "The  People's 
Chief:" 


102  NEW  IRELAND. 

"The  storms  of  enfranchised  passions  rise  as  the  voice  of  the  eagle 

screaming, 
And  we  scatter  now  to  the  earth's  four  winds  the  memory  of  our 

dreaming  ! 

The  clouds  but  vail  the  lightning's  bolt,— Sibylline  murmurs  ring 
In  hollow  tones  from  out  the  depths  :  the  People  seek  their  King  ! 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  Anointed  One  1  nor  blazon  nor  honors  bear- 

iiwr; 

No  '  ancient  line '  be  thy  seal  or  sign,  the  crown  of  Humanity  wear- 
ing ; 

Spring  out,  as  lucent  fountains  spring,  exulting  from  the  ground- 
Arise  as  Adam  rose  from  God,  with  strength  and  knowledge  crown'd  ! 

"  The  leader  of  the  world's  wide  host  guiding  our  aspirations, 
Wear  thou  the  seamless  garb  of  Truth  sitting  among  the  nations  I 
Thy  foot  is  on  the  empty  forms  around  in  shivers  cast : 
We  crush  ye  with  the  scorn  of  scorn,  exuviae  of  the  past  1 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  O  Man  of  men  !  to  the  cry  of  the  gathering 

nations  ; 

We  watch  on  tower,  we  watch  on  the  hill,  pouring  our  invocations  ; 
Our  souls  are  sick  of  sounds  and  shades  that  mock  our  shame  and 

grief, 
We  hurl  the  Dagons  from  their  seats,  and  call  the  lawful  Chief  ! 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  0  Man  of  men  !  to  the  frenzy  of  our  im- 
ploring, 

The  wing'd  despair  that  no  man  can  bear,  up  to  the  heavens  soaring ; 
Come  Faith  and  Hope,  and  Love  and  Trust,  upon  their  center  rock, 
The  wailing  millions  summon  thee,  amid  the  earthquake  shock  ! 

"  We've  kept  the  weary  watch  of  years,  with  a  wild  and  heart- wrung 

yearning, 
But  the  star  of  the  Advent  we  sought  in  vain,  calmly  and  purely 

burning ; 

False  meteors  flash'd  across  the  sky,  and  falsely  led  us  on  ; 
The  parting  of  the  strife  is  come, — the  spell  is  o'er  and  gone  ! 

"  The  future's  closed  gates  are  now  on  their  ponderous  hinges  jarring, 
And  there  comes  a  sound  as  of  winds  and  waves  each  with  the  other 

warring, 

And  forward  bends  the  listening  world,  as  to  their  eager  ken 
From  out  that  dark  and  mystic  land  appears  the  Man  of  men  1 " 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND."  103 

Kevin  O'Doherty  (already  mentioned)  was  at  this  time  a 
young  medical  student  in  Dublin.  From  admiring  "  Eva's" 
poetry,  he  took  to  admiring — that  is,  loving — herself.  The 
outbreak  of  1848,  however,  brought  a  rude  interruption  to 
Kevin's  suit.  He  was  writing  unmistakably  seditious  prose 
while  "Eva"  was  assailing  the  constituted  authorities  in 
rebel  verse.  Kevin  was  arrested  and  brought  to  trial.  Twice 
the  jury  disagreed.  The  day  before  his  third  arraignment 
he  was  offered  a  virtual  pardon — a  merely  nominal  sentence 
— if  he  would  plead  guilty.  He  sent  for  Eva,  and  told  her 
of  the  proposition.  "It  may  seem  as  if  I  did  not  feel  the 
certainty  of  losing  you,  perhaps  forever,"  said  he  j  "  but  I 
don't  like  this  idea  of  pleading  guilty.  Say,  what  shall  I 
do  ?"  "  Do  ?"  answered  the  poetess :  "why,  be  a  man,  and 
face  the  worst.  I'll  wait  for  you,  however  long  the  sentence 
may  be."  Next  day  fortune  deserted  Kevin.  The  jury  found 
him  guilty.  The  judge  assigned  him  ten  years'  transporta- 
tion. "Eva"  was  allowed  to  see  him  once  more  in  the  cell 
to  say  adieu.  She  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Be  you  faithful. 
Til  wait."  And  she  did.  Years  fled  by,  and  the  young 
exile  was  at  length  allowed  once  more  to  tread  Irish  soil. 
Two  days  after  he  landed  at  Kingstown  "Eva"  was  his 
bride. 

Less  happy  was  the  romance  of  "Mary's"  fate.  She  was 
a  Munster  lady,  Miss  Ellen  Downing  by  name,  and,  like 
"Eva,"  formed  an  attachment  for  one  of  the  Young  Ireland 
writers.  In  "  Forty-eight "  he  became  a  fugitive.  Alas,  in 
foreign  climes  he  learned  to  forget  home  vows.  "  Mary " 
sank  under  the  blow.  She  put  by  the  lyre,  and  in  utter  se- 
clusion from  the  world  lingered  for  a  while ;  but  ere  long 
the  spring  flowers  bloomed  on  her  grave. 

"Speranza" — then  Miss  Elgee,  now  Lady  Wilde — was  in- 
comparably the  most  brilliant  of  the  galaxy.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Elgee,  Protestant  rector  of  a  parish 
in  the  county  Wexford,  and  sister  of  the  Hon.  Judge  Elgee, 
of  New  Orleans.  Young,  beautiful,  highly  educated,  en- 


104  NEW  IRELAND. 

dowed  with  rarest  gifts  of  intellect,  her  personal  attractions, 
her  cultivated  mind,  her  originality  and  force  of  character, 
made  her  the  center  figure  in  Dublin  society  thirty  years 
ago.  In  1845  she  married  Sir  William  Robert  Wilde,  by 
whose  death  recently  Ireland  has  lost  one  of  its  most  dis- 
tinguished archaeologists.  Down  to  almost  a  recent  period 
Lady  Wilde  continued  her  contributions  to  Irish  national 
literature,  ever  and  anon  striking  a  chord  in  the  old  strain, 
always  singing  of  hope  and  courage  and  truth.  One  of  the 
last  contributions  I  received  from  her  hand  for  publication 
in  the  Nation  affords  a  good  illustration  of  the  spirit  which 
animated  all  "  Speranza's  "  poems.  Death  had  been  busy 
just  then  striking  down  some  of  the  most  trusted  of  the 
Irish  national  leaders,  and  many  circumstances  led  me  to 
express  one  day  in  writing  to  her  my  utter  disheartenment 
as  to  the  outlook  in  Irish  politics.  A  post  or  two  subse- 
quently brought  me  from  Lady  "Wilde  this  address  to  her 
countrymen : 

"  Has  the  line  of  the  patriots  ended, 

The  race  of  the  heroes  fail'd, 
That  the  bow  of  the  mighty,  unbended, 

Falls  slack  from  the  hands  of  the  quail'd? 
Or  do  graves  lie  too  thick  in  the  grass 
For  the  chariot  of  Progress  to  pass  ? 

"  Did  the  men  of  the  past  ever  falter, — 

The  stainless  in  name  and  fame  ? 
They  flung  life's  best  gifts  on  the  altar 

To  kindle  the  sacrifice-flame, 
Till  it  rose  like  a  pillar  of  light 
Leading  up  from  Egyptian  night. 

"  O  hearts  all  aflame  with  the  daring 

Of  youth  leaping  forth  into  life  I 
Have  ye  courage  to  lift  up,  unfearing1, 

The  banner  fallen  low  in  the  strife, 
From  hands  faint  through  life's  deepest  loss 
And  bleeding  from  nails  of  the  cross  ? 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND."  105 

"  Can  ye  work  on  as  they  work'd, — unaided, 

When  all  but  honor  seem'd  lost, — 
And  give  to  your  country,  as  they  did, 

All,  without  counting  the  cost  ? 
For  the  children  have  risen  since  then 
Up  to  the  height  of  men. 

"  Now  swear  by  those  pale  martyr-faces 

All  worn  by  the  furrows  of  tears, 
By  the  lost  youth  no  morrow  replaces, 

By  all  their  long  wasted  years, 
By  the  fires  trod  out  on  each  hearth, 
When  the  Exiles  were  driven  forth  ; 

"  By  the  young  lives  so  vainly  given, 

By  the  raven  hair  blanch'd  to  gray, 
By  the  strong  spirits  crush'd  and  riven, 

By  the  noble  aims  faded  away, 
By  their  brows,  as  the  brows  of  a  king, 
Crown'd  by  the  circlet  of  suffering — 

"  To  strive  as  they  strove,  yet  retrieving 
The  Cause  from  all  shadow  of  blame, 
In  the  Congress  of  Peoples  achieving 

A  place  for  our  nation  and  name  ; 
Not  by  war  between  brothers  in  blood, 
But  by  glory  made  perfect  through  good. 

"  We  are  blind,  not  discerning  the  promise, 

'Tis  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  that  kills  ; 
Give  us  Light,  and  the  fetters  fall  from  us, 

For  the  strong  soul  is  free  when  it  wills  : 
Not  our  wrongs  but  our  sins  make  the  cloud 
That  darkens  the  land  like  a  shroud. 


"  With  this  sword  like  an  archangel's  gleaming, 

Go  war  against  Evil  and  Sin, 
'Gainst  the  falsehood  and  meanness  and  seeming 

That  stifle  the  true  life  within. 
Tour  bonds  are  the  bonds  of  the  soul, 
Strike  them  off,  and  you  spring  to  the  goal ! 
5* 


106  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  0  men  who  have  pass'd  through  the  furnace, 

Assay'd  like  the  gold,  and  as  pure  ! 
By  your  strength  can  the  weakest  gain  firmness, 

The  strongest  may  learn  to  endure, 
When  once  they  have  chosen  their  part, 
Though  the  sword  may  drive  home  to  each  heart. 

"  O  martyrs  !  The  scorners  may  trample 

On  broken  hearts  strew'd  in  their  path  I 
But  the  young  race,  all  flush'd  by  example, 

Will  awake  to  the  duties  it  hath, 
And  rekindle  your  own  torch  of  Truth 
With  the  passionate  splendors  of  youth  ! " 

It  was  not  as  a  poet  Lady  Wilde  first  became  a  contributor 
to  the  Nation.  Some  exceedingly  able  letters  having  ap- 
peared in  that  journal  signed  "John  Fanshawe  Ellis,"  the 
editor,  Mr.  Duffy,  expressed,  in  the  "Notices  to  Correspond- 
ents," a  desire  to  meet  "  Mr.  Ellis."  By  return  of  post  he 
was  informed  that  he  could  do  so  by  calling  on  a  certain 
evening  at  the  house  of  Dr.  W.  E.  Wilde.  Mr.  Duffy  went, 
and  was  received  by  the  doctor,  who,  having  chatted  with 
him  for  a  while,  left  the  room  and  shortly  returned  leading 
by  the  hand  "  Mr.  John  Fanshawe  Ellis "  in  the  person  of 
his  wife,  formerly  Miss  Jane  Frances  Elgee,  "Speranza"  of 
future  fame.  In  truth,  Lady  Wilde  could  rouse  the  soul  by 
thrilling  prose  as  well  as  by  impassioned  song.  In  1848  she 
was  the  Madame  Roland  of  the  Irish  Gironde.  When  the 
struggle  was  over,  and  Gavan  Duffy  was  on  trial  for  high 
treason,  among  the  articles  read  against  him  was  one  from 
the  suppressed  number  of  the  Nation,  entitled  "  Jacta  Alea 
Est."  It  was  without  example  as  a  revolutionary  appeal. 
Exquisitely  beautiful  as  a  piece  of  writing,  it  glowed  with 
fiery  incentive.  It  was  in  fact  a  prose  poem,  a  wild  war- 
song,  in  which  Ireland  was  called  upon  that  day  in  the  face 
of  earth  and  heaven  to  invoke  the  ultima  ratio  of  oppressed 
nations.  The  Attorney-General  read  the  article  amidst 
breathless  silence.  At  its  close  there  was  a  murmur  of 
emotion  in  the  densely-crowded  court,  when  suddenly  a  cry 


"YOUNG  IRELAND."  107 

from  the  ladies'  gallery  startled  every  one.  "I  am  the  culprit, 
if  crime  it  be,"  was  spoken  in  a  woman's  yoice.  It  was  the 
voice  of  queenly  "  Speranza."  The  article  was  from  her  pen. 

The  recognized  leader,  at  all  events  the  political  chief,  of 
the  Young  Ireland  party  was  "William  Smith  O'Brien.  He 
was  a  Protestant  gentleman  of  high  character  and  influential 
position  in  Clare  ;  his  brother,  Lord  Inchiquin  (at  that  time 
Sir  Lucius  O'Brien),  being  nearest  male  relative  to  the  Mar- 
quis of  Thomond.  The  family  is  undoubtedly  of  ancient 
and  illustrious  lineage,  tracing  in  authenticated  line  from 
King  Brian  I.,  monarch  of  Ireland,  whose  overthrow  of  the 
Danish  power  at  Clontarf  was  an  event  of  European  interest 
and  importance  in  the  eleventh  century.  In  the  reigns  of 
Elizabeth  and  James  the  First  most  of  the  Irish  chieftains 
who  from  time  to  time  submitted  or  "  attorned  "  to  the  Eng- 
lish power  undertook  to  accept  English  titles,  and  to  give  up 
their  children  (their  next  heirs,  at  all  events)  to  be  educated 
as  Government  "wards."  The  young  hostages,  for  such  in 
truth  they  were,  in  every  case  were  brought  up  Protestants, 
so  that  few  of  the  existing  representatives  of  the  ancient 
Milesian  chieftainries  now  profess  the  Catholic  faith. 

Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  an  English  coronet  sat  on 
the  brows  of  the  Thomond  chieftain.  In  the  civil  war  of 
1641  Morrough  O'Brien,  Earl  of  Thomond,  espoused  Crom- 
well's side,  and  was  the  terror  of  the  Munster  royalists.  It 
was  he  who  cannonaded  and  set  fire  to  the  cathedral  of  Cashel, 
— magnificent  even  now  in  its  ruins. 

William  Smith  O'Brien  was  born  in  1803,  and  was  edu- 
cated at  Harrow  and  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  He  early 
entered  Parliament  for  one  of  what  may  be  called  the  family 
seats  as  a  stanch  Conservative.  Though  strong  Tories,  and 
actively  opposing  O'Connell  in  his  Emancipation  agitation, 
the  Thomond  O'Briens  were  intensely  Irish,  and  were  ex- 
tremely popular  in  Clare  and  Limerick.  From  1826  to 
1843  Smith  O'Brien  pursued  in  Parliament  the  career  of  an 
Irish  "country-gentleman"  Conservative,  of  rather  liberal  or 


108  NEW  IRELAND. 

popular  inclinations,  devoting  himself  actively  to  what  would 
be  called  practical  legislation  affecting  the  material  interests 
of  Ireland.  In  1843  he  startled  the  country  by  publicly 
giving  in  his  adhesion  to  the  Repeal  movement,  stating  that 
fourteen  years'  patient  trial  of  the  London  Parliament  had 
brought  him  conscientiously  to  this  determination.  By  this 
step  he  not  alone  severed  himself  forever  in  public  affairs 
from  his  lifetime  associates  and  friends,  but  suffered  estrange- 
ment in  his  own  family,  which  he  felt  most  acutely.  He  was, 
however,  a  man  of  invincible  purpose,  absolutely  destitute  of 
fear  or  vacillation  in  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  path  of 
duty.  He  was  the  very  soul  of  honor  and  truth.  I  doubt 
that  Ireland  ever  knew  a  higher  type  of  public  virtue  and 
personal  integrity  than  William  Smith  O'Brien.  Yet  he 
lacked  many  essential  qualifi  cations  of  a  great  political  leader. 
It  was  not  because  of  his  abilities,  but  of  his  virtues  and  of 
his  commanding  social  position,  that  he  rose  to  be  the  chief 
of  an  Irish  party.  He  was  proud,  almost  haughty,  dignified 
and  reserved  in  manner.  His  conservatism  never  wholly 
abandoned  him.  Early  associations  left  an  indelible  imprint 
on  his  character,  opinions,  and  principles.  He  had  a  horror 
of  revolutionary  doctrines.  No  man  in  all  the  land  seemed 
less  likely  to  figure  subsequently  in  history  as  a  rebel  chief. 

His  accession  to  the  Eepeal  movement  was  the  great  event 
of  the  time.  He  was  hailed  as  "  the  second  man  in  Ireland," 
O'Connell  being  the  first.  I  doubt  that  the  old  "  Catholic 
Emancipation  party,"  O'Connell's  immediate  following,  ever 
took  cordially  to  him  ;  but  he  soon  became  the  head  of  the 
literary  and  educational  party  in  the  Repeal  ranks,  whose 
independence  of  thought  and  boldness  of  speech  were  daily 
alarming  the  Liberator.  When  at  length  matters  came  to  a 
crisis  in  the  association,  and  the  secession  described  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter  took  place,  O'Brien,  though  greatly  regretting 
the  incident,  withdrew  with  "Young  Ireland,"  and  thence- 
forth took  his  place  as  the  recognized  and  responsible  leader 
of  the  party. 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND"  109 

I  first  met  William  Smith  O'Brien  in  July,  1848,  three 
weeks  before  the  catastrophe  which  consigned  him  to  a 
traitor's  doom.  He  was  engaged  in  the  tour  of  the  south- 
western and  southern  counties,  evidently  anxious  to  satisfy 
himself  as  to  the  real  state  of  public  feeling,  and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  the  physical  resources  of  the  national  party.  He  was 
to  arrive  at  Glengariffe  on  his  way,  via  Bantry,  to  a  great 
parade  or  review  of  the  Confederate  clubs  in  Cork.  The  men 
of  our  coasts  and  mountains  decided  to  give  him  a  royal  re- 
ception and  in  a  style  characteristic  of  an  aquatic  community. 
Not  only  the  fishing-fleet  of  Bantry,  but  the  boats  of  every 
seaside  hamlet  on  creek  and  inlet  for  miles  around,  were  to 
accompany  him  across  the  bay  from  Glengariffe  to  Bantry,  a 
little  fore-and-aft-schooner  yacht  of  my  father's  having  the 
envied  honor  of  conveying  the  distinguished  visitor.  With 
flowing  sheet  we  crossed  the  open  bay,  and  reached  the  east- 
ward point  of  Whiddy  Island,  that  shields  from  ocean  billow 
and  gale  the  haven  of  Bantry.  The  instant  we  rounded  the 
island  there  met  our  view  a  scene  I  shall  never  forget.  A 
flotilla  of  some  hundreds  of  boats  here  awaited  us.  Every 
crew  had  gone  ashore  and  pulled  green  boughs  from  the  trees 
and  fastened  them  upright  on  the  gunwales,  so  that  each  boat 
was  like  a  floating  bower.  When  the  "  Independence,"  quick- 
ly turning  the  point,  shot  into  sight,  there  burst  from  the 
fleet  a  deafening  shout,  the  bands  struck  up,  the  oarsmen 
gave  way  with  a  will,  we  pulled  our  fore-stay-sail  aback  so  as 
to  slow  for  them,  and  the  whole  procession  crossed  the  harbor's 
wide  expanse  like  Birnam  Wood  marching  on  Dunsinane. 

When  next  I  met  O'Brien— it  was  in  1857— a  sad  chapter 
of  Irish  history  had  been  added  to  the  national  annals.  Thence- 
forth, to  the  hour  of  his  death,  we  were  closely  associated 
as  political  and  personal  friends ;  but  in  the  Young  Ireland 
period,  my  only  personal  intercourse  with,  or  experience  of, 
him  was  that  of  the  memorable  scene  I  have  just  described.* 

*  How  warmly  lie  remembered  it,  even  amidst  the  gloom  of  a  con- 
viction for  high  treason,  was  shown  by  his  forwarding  to  me  from  his 


HO  NEW  IRELAND. 

One  of  the  notable  grounds  of  difference  between  the  two 
sections  of  Eepealers  in  O'Connell's  association  was  the  com- 
plaint of  the  Young  Irelanders  that  the  National  movement 
was  being  conducted  with  too  much  of  a  religious  bias ;  that 
is  to  say,  in  a  way  which  seemed  to  assume  that  every  patri- 
otic Irishman  must  necessarily  be  a  Catholic.  O'Connell 
made  the  platform  of  the  association  ring  with  denunciations 
of  every  measure,  prospect,  or  principle  inimical  to  Catholic 
feeling.  The  Catholic  Young  Irelanders  said  that  in  a 
Catholic  association  this  would  be  right  and  proper;  but 
they  asserted  that  in  a  public  organization,  explicitly  re- 
stricted to  a  purely  political  purpose,  and  in  which  Protes- 
tants and  Catholics  were  alike  engaged,  it  was  out  of  place, 
and  quite  wrong.  The  contention  over  this  issue  grew  very 
bitter.  Out  of  it  arose  the  imputation  of  "  free-thinking  " 
doctrines  which  some  persons  long  sought  to  fasten  on  the 
Young  Ireland  party. 

Hard  things  were  said  on  both  sides.  The  Old  Irelanders 
anathematized  the  young  men  as  infidels ;  the  Young  Ire- 
landers  denounced  the  old  as  bigots.  The  point  involved 
wis  by  no  means  trivial;  it  was  of  the  first  magnitude  ;  it  was 
vital  for  the  future  of  Ireland :  namely,  whether  combined 
effort  between  Protestant  and  Catholic  Irishmen  in  purely 
political  affairs  was  to  be  rendered  impracticable.  Although 
some  of  the  "Young"  party  pushed  their  arguments  in  lan- 
guage that  partook  far  too  much  of  latitudinarianism,  it  is 
now  recognized  and  confessed  that  on  this  occasion  they  de- 
fended a  position  the  loss  or  surrender  of  which  would  have 
been  simply  disastrous.  The  utmost  they  were  able  to  do  at 

cell  in  Richmond  jail  the  music  of  a  favorite  song,  with  this  inscrip- 
tion : 

"Presented  to  Alexander  M.  Sullivan  by  William  S.  O'Brien,  in 
remembrance  of  his  excursion  by  water  from  Glengariffe  to  Bantry,  on 
board  the  yacht  '  Independence,'  in  July,  1848 ;  when  this  song  was 
sung  by  a  young  lady. 
"  RICHMOND  PBISON,  March,  1849." 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND."  Ill 

the  time  was  to  make  a  stout  fight.  Not  until  many  years 
afterward  was  the  principle  they  thus  contended  for  pro- 
claimed and  adopted  as  unquestioned  and  unquestionable  in 
Irish  affairs.  Had  they  not  fought  for  it  then,  a  wall  of 
brass  might  now  be  dividing  into  hostile  camps  Protestant 
and  Catholic  Irishmen.  But  their  whole  career  was  one  of 
struggle,  unrequited  by  a  single  ray  of  immediate  victory. 
Their  break  with  O'Connell  drew  down  on  them  long-endur- 
ing unpopularity.  Their  reprehensions  of  parliamentary 
corruption  caused  them  to  be  derided  as  Utopian  purists. 
Their  fight  for  religious  tolerance  exposed  them  to  charges 
of  infidelity.  Their  educational  propaganda  was  scoffed  at 
as  boyish  bubble-blowing.  On  nearly  every  point  of  their 
programme  they  seemed  to  fail.  That  is  to  say,  they  were 
wrecked  as  a  party  before  leaf  or  blossom  appeared  to  indi- 
cate that  the  seed  they  had  planted  with  so  much  toil  had 
not  perished  forever.  But  we  of  to-day  reap  the  fruits  of 
their  labors.  They  were  the  precursors  of  a  better  time. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

"FOBTY-EIGHT." 

.  EIGHTEEN  hundred  and  forty-eight  has  been  called,  by 
Lord  Normanby  I  believe,  the  "Year  of  Revolutions."  It 
is  certain  that  history  supplies  us  with  no  similar  spectacle 
of  general  and  almost  simultaneous  outbreak  in  the  capitals 
of  Europe.  The  ideal  "principles"  of  1789  found  at  the 
time  admirers  and  sympathizers  in  many  lands ;  but  so  far 
from  the  overthrow  of  the  French  monarchy  immediately 
calling  forth  like  events  elsewhere,  Christendom  stood  aghast 
at  the  dread  spectacle  in  Paris  of  men  who 

"At  Death's  reeking  altar  like  furies  caressing 
The  Young  Hope  of  Freedom,  baptized  it  in  blood." 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  from  the  Place  de  la 
Bastile  were  scattered  eventually  over  Europe  ideas  and  doc- 
trines which,  ever  since,  have  been  in  part  the  watchwords 
of  human  liberty  and  in  part  the  shibboleths  of  anarchy  and 
crime. 

The  French  revolution  of  February,  1848,  was  no  such 
"bolt  from  the  blue"  as  some  have  considered  it.  There 
were  storm-flashes  all  around,  gloom  on  every  hand,  and  dis- 
tant peals  by  the  Adriatic.  In  November,  1847,  Austria 
commenced  to  occupy  the  Italian  States,  taking  possession 
of  Parma,  Modena,  and  Reggio.  Early  in  January,  1848, 
there  was  an  outbreak  at  Leghorn.  On  the  12th  Palermo 
revolted  against  King  Ferdinand,  and  a  "constitution"  was 
conceded.  On  the  13th  the  Emperor  of  Austria  announced 
that  he  would  make  "no  further  concessions,"  and  two  days 
later  Radetzky  issued  an  order  of  the  day  commanding  his 

112 


"FORTY-EIGHT."  113 

troops  to  prepare  for  an  immediate  struggle.  On  the  29th 
the  Constitution  of  1812  was  proclaimed  in  Naples,  and  on 
the  30th  the  Duke  of  Modena  fled  his  capital.  On  the  8th 
of  February  the  King  of  Sardinia  followed  the  example  set 
in  Naples,  and  granted  a  "constitution."  On  the  llth  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  did  the  same.  On  the  22d  martial 
law  was  proclaimed  in  Lombardy;  and  on  the  same  day 
Messina  was  bombarded  by  the  Neapolitan  troops. 

These  events,  it  will  be  seen,  bring  us  up  to  the  very  eve  of 
the  day  on  which  Louis  Philippe  was  swept  from  the  French 
throne ;  yet  it  was  in  the  midst  of  such  ominous  signs  that 
the  "  citizen  king  "  and  his  infatuated  ministers  were  rushing 
blindly  on  their  fate.  On  the  26th  of  December,  1847,  the 
first  of  the  "reform  banquets"  was  held  at  Kouen,  eighteen 
hundred  persons  attending.  At  this  as  at  numerous  similar 
demonstrations  the  toast  of  the  king's  health  was  omitted. 
On  the  12th  of  February  M.  Guizot  declared  in  the  French 
Chamber  against  reform  or  concession.  On  the  21st  the 
Paris  reform  banquet  was  proclaimed.  On  the  22d  the  im- 
peachment of  M.  Guizot  was  proposed  in  the  Chamber,  but 
the  motion  was  triumphantly  defeated, — that  "astute  and 
far-seeing  minister,"  as  he  was  universally  considered,  laugh- 
ing outright  at  the  absurd  and  impotent  proceeding.  Within 
forty-eight  hours  he  and  his  royal  master  were  fugitives,  and 
the  monarchy  of  July  was  no  more  ! 

Scarcely  had  the  astounding  news  from  Paris  burst  upon 
us,  when  all  around  the  European  horizon,  north,  south,  east, 
and  west,  the  flames  of  revolution  leaped  to  the  sky.  The 
crash  of  falling  thrones,  the  roar  of  cannon,  the  shouts  of 
popular  victory,  filled  the  air.  A  fierce  contagion  seemed  to 
spread  all  over  the  Continent.  The  Holy  Alliance  was  in  the 
dust,  and  a  thousand  voices  from  Milan  to  Berlin  proclaimed 
that  the  deliverance  of  subject  peoples  was  at  hand. 

Ireland  could  not  escape  the  fever  of  the  hour.  It  found 
her  in  circumstances  that  seemed  to  leave  her  little  choice 
but  to  yield  to  its  influence. 


114  NEW  IRELAND. 

Eighteen  months  previously  the  severance  between  "  Old" 
and  "Young"  Ireland  had  occurred.  There  were  now  two 
Repeal  organizations  :  one,  the  original  association  founded 
by  O'Connell,  now  feebly  conducted  by  his  son ;  the  other, 
the  "Irish  Confederation"  started  by  the  seceding  Young 
Irelanders,  or  "  Confederates,"  as  they  came  to  be  designated 
at  this  period.  The  secession,  it  will  be  remembered,  al- 
though it  had  more  real  causes,  was  ostensibly  provoked  or 
produced  by  O'ConnelPs  attempt  to  exact  from  all  Repealers 
a  declaration  reprehending  physical  force.  Although  the 
Young  Irelanders  had  on  that  occasion  refused  to  sign  a  dec- 
laration which,  as  they  contended,  logically  struck  at  some 
of  the  best  and  bravest  men  in  the  world's  history,  they  really 
were  at  one  with  O'Connell  as  to  reliance  on  moral  and  politi- 
cal influences  alone  for  the  achievement  of  Irish  aims.  No 
doubt  they  believed  in  the  moral  influence  of  physical  re- 
sources and  inculcated  this  doctrine  with  an  earnestness  that 
could  not  fail  to  alarm  the  old  tribune.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  the  seceders — the  party  of  the  Left,  so  to  speak,  in  the 
Repeal  Association — attempted  to  carry  on  an  agitation  in- 
dependently as  the  Irish  Confederation,  than  it  became  evi- 
dent there  was  an  "Extreme  Left"  as  well  as  a  "Left  Cen- 
ter." Amidst  the  maddening  scenes  of  Forty-six  and  Forty- 
seven  a  real  "physical  force  party"  began  to  be  heard  of, 
chiefly  in  wild  declarations  that  it  were  better  the  people 
should  perish  arms  in  hand  than  rot  away  in  thousands  under 
a  famine  regime.  No  one  seriously  regarded  these  passion- 
ate exclamations  at  the  time.  Toward  the  close  of  1847, 
however,  conflict  on  the  subject  became  inevitable.  Mr.  John 
Mitchel,  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Nation  newspaper,  declared 
the  time  had  come  for  calling  upon  the  Irish  people  to  face 
an  armed  struggle.  Such  a  course  was  entirely  opposed  to 
the  principles  and  policy  of  the  journal  to  which  he  was  at- 
tached, and  was  utterly  condemned  by  Gavan  Duffy  and 
Darcy  McGee,  Mitchel's  editorial  colleagues.  He  retired 
from  the  Nation,  and  the  controversy  was  carried  into  the 


"  FORTY-EIGHT,"  115 

council-room  of  the  Confederation.  In  the  light  of  events 
that  soon  after  became  public  history  the  statement  must 
seem  strange,  yet  true  it  is,  that  the  most  able  and  vehement 
opponents  of  Mitchel's  physical  force  propositions  were  Smith 
O'Brien,  John  B.  Dillon,  Gavan  Duffy,  T.  F.  Meagher, 
Eichard  O'Gorman,  Michael  Doheny,  Darcy  McGee, — the 
very  men  who,  a  few  months  later,  were  prisoners  in  dungeon 
bound,  or  fugitives  on  the  hill-side,  for  participation  in  an 
Irish  insurrection ! 

John  Mitchel — the  first  man  who,  since  Eobert  Emmet 
perished  on  the  scaffold  in  1803,  preached  an  Irish  insurrec- 
tion and  the  total  severance  of  Ireland  from  the  British 
Crown — was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  John  Mitchel,  Unitarian 
minister  of  Dungiven,  county  Derry.  He  was  born  in  1815, 
and  was  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Like  many 
another  Trinity  student,  he  early  became  a  contributor  to 
the  Nation  newspaper  ;  and  in  1845,  on  the  death  of  Thomas 
Davis,  he  accepted  an  editorial  position  on  that  journal,  in 
conjunction  with  Charles  Gavan  Duffy  and  Thomas  Darcy 
McGee.  The  stern  Unitarian  Ulsterman  soon  developed  a 
decided  bent  in  favor  of  what  half  a  century  before  would 
have  been  called  "French  principles."  He  was  republican 
and  revolutionary.  At  all  events,  during  the  scenes  of  the 
famine-period  he  quite  drew  away  from  the  policy  advocated 
by  his  colleagues,  and  eventually  called  upon  the  Irish  Con- 
federation to  declare  for  a  war  of  independence.  He  it  was 
who  revived  the  "  Separatist "  or  revolutionary  party  in  Irish 
politics.  From  1803  up  to  1845  no  such  party  had  any  rec- 
ognized or  visible  existence.  There  was,  beyond  question, 
disaffection  in  the  country,  a  constantly-maintained  protest 
against,  or  passive  resistance  to,  the  existing  state  of  things  ; 
but  no  one  dreamed  of  a  political  aim  beyond  Repeal  of  the 
Union  as  a  constitutional  object  to  be  attained  by  constitu- 
tional means.  The  era  of  revolt  and  rebellion  seemed  gone 
forever.  John  Mitchel,  however,  thrust  utterly  aside  the 
doctrines  of  loyalty  and  legality.  He  declared  that  consti- 


116  NEW  IRELAND. 

tutionalism  was  demoralizing  the  country.  By  "blood  and 
iron  "  alone  could  Ireland  be  saved. 

These  violent  doctrines  were  abhorrent  to  Smith  O'Brien, 
and  indeed  to  nearly  every  one  of  the  Confederation  leaders. 
O'Brien  declared  that  either  he  or  Mitchel  must  quit  the 
organization.  The  question  was  publicly  debated  for  two 
days  at  full  meetings,  and  on  the  5th  of  February,  1848,  the 
"war "party  were  utterly  outvoted,  and  retired  from  the 
Confederation.  Seven  days  afterward  John  Mitchel,  as  if 
rendered  desperate  by  this  reprehension  of  his  doctrines, 
started  a  weekly  newspaper  called  the  United  Irishman  to 
openly  preach  his  policy  of  insurrection. 

He  was  regarded  as  a  madman.  Young  Irelanders  and 
Old  Irelanders  alike  laughed  in  derision  or  shouted  in  anger 
at  this  proceeding.  But  events  were  now  near  which,  all 
unforeseen  as  they  were  by  Mitchel  and  by  his  opponents, 
were  destined  to  put  the  desperate  game  completely  into  his 
hands. 

The  third  number  of  the  new  journal  had  barely  appeared 
when  news  of  the  French  revolution  burst  on  an  astonished 
world.  It  set  Ireland  in  a  blaze.  Each  day  added  to  the 
excitement.  Every  post  brought  tidings  of  some  popular 
rising,  invariably  crowned  with  victory.  Every  bulletin, 
whether  from  Paris,  Berlin,  or  Vienna,  told  the  same  story, 
preached,  as  it  were,  the  same  lesson, — barricades  in  the 
streets,  overthrow  of  the  Government,  triumph  of  the  peo- 
ple. It  may  be  doubted  if  the  United  Irishman  would  have 
lived  through  a  third  month  but  for  this  astounding  turn  of 
affairs.  Now  its  every  utterance  was  rapturously  hailed  by  a 
wildly-excited  multitude.  What  need  to  trace  what  may  be 
easily  understood  ? — Ireland  was  irresistibly  swept  into  the 
vortex  of  revolution.  The  popular  leaders,  who  a  month 
previously  had  publicly  defeated  Mitchel's  pleadings  for  war, 
now  caught  the  prevalent  passion.  Struck  by  the  events 
they  beheld  and  the  examples  set  on  every  side,  they  verily 
believed  that  Ireland  had  but  to  "go  and  do  likewise,"  and 


"FORTY-EIGHT*  117 

the  boon  of  national  liberty  would  be  conceded  by  England, 
probably  without  a  blow. 

Confederate  "clubs"  now  sprang  up  all  over  the  country, 
and  arming  and  drilling  were  openly  carried  on.  Mitchel's 
journal  week  by  week  labored  with  fierce  energy  to  hurry  the 
conflict.  The  editor  addressed  letters  through  its  pages  to 
Lord  Clarendon,  the  Irish  Viceroy,  styling  him  "  Her  Ma- 
jesty's Executioner  General  and  General  Butcher  of  Ireland." 
He  published  instructions  as  to  street- warfare ;  noted  the 
"Berlin  system,"  and  the  "Milanese  system,"  and  the 
"  Viennese  system  ; "  highly  praised  molten  lead,  crockery- 
ware,  broken  bottles,  and  even  cold  vitriol,  as  good  things 
for  citizens,  male  or  female,  to  fling  from  windows  and 
house-tops  on  hostile  troops  operating  below.  Of  course 
Mitchel  knew  that  this  could  not  possibly  be  tolerated.  His 
calculation  was  that  the  Government  must  indeed  seize  him, 
but  that  before  he  could  be  struck  down  and  his  paper  be 
suppressed  he  would  have  rendered  revolution  inevitable. 

The  Confederation  leaders  had  indeed  embraced  the  idea 
of  an  armed  struggle,  yet  the  divergence  of  principles  be- 
tween them  and  the  Mitchel  party  was  wide  almost  as  ever. 
They  seemed  marching  together  on  the  one  road,  yet  it  was 
hardly  so.  For  a  long  time  O'Brien  and  his  friends  held  to 
a  hope  that  eventually  concession  and  arrangement  between 
the  Government  and  Ireland  would  avert  collision.  Mitchel, 
on  the  other  hand,  feared  nothing  more  than  compromise  of 
any  kind.  They  would  fain  proceed  soberly  upon  the  model 
of  Washington  and  the  Colonies ;  he  was  for  following  the 
example  of  Louis  Blanc  and  the  boulevards  of  Paris.  The 
ideal  struggle  of  their  plans,  if  struggle  there  must  be,  was 
a  well-prepared  and  carefully-ordered  appeal  to  arms,*  and 

*  A  private  letter  written  from  his  cell  in  Newgate  prison  by  Gavan 
Duffy  to  O'Brien  in  the  week  preceding  the  outbreak,  and  found  in 
O'Brien's  portmanteau  after  his  arrest,  brings  out  very  curiously  these 
views  : 

"  I  am  glad  to  learn  you  are  about  to  commence  a  series  of  meetings 


118  NEW  IRELAND. 

so  they  would  wait  till  autumn,  when  the  harvest  would  be 
gathered  in.  "  Kose-water  revolutionists,"  Mitchel  scorn- 
fully called  them.  "Fools,  idiots,"  exclaimed  one  of  his 
lieutenants:  "they  will  wait  till  muskets  are  showered 
down  to  them  from  heaven,  and  angels  sent  to  pull  the 
triggers." 

Behind  all  this  argument  for  preparation  and  delay  there 
undoubtedly  existed  what  may  be  called  the  "  conservative  " 
ideas  and  principles,  which  some  of  the  leading  Confederates 
entertained.  O'Brien  stormed  against  "the  Reds,"  as  he 
called  the  more  desperate  and  impatient  men.  They,  on  the 
other  hand,  denounced  him  as  an  "  aristocrat"  at  heart,  and 
a  man  whose  weakness  would  be  the  ruin  of  the  whole  enter- 
prise. Speaking  with  myself  years  afterward,  he  referred 
bitterly  to  the  reproaches  cast  upon  him  for  his  alleged 
"  punctiliousness "  and  excessive  alarm  as  to  anti-social  ex- 
cesses. "I  was  ready  to  give  my  life  in  a  fair  fight  for  a 
nation's  rights,"  said  he;  "but  I  was  not  willing  to  head  a 
Jacquerie." 

But  if  the  whilom  Young  Irelanders  were  thus  split  into 
two  sections,  led  respectively  by  O'Brien  and  Mitchel,  there 
was  a  third  party  to  be  taken  into  account,  the  O'Connellite 
Eepealers.  These  were  as  hostile  to  the  revolutionists — 
both  "  rose-water  "  and  "  vitriol " — as  were  the  life-long  par- 
tisans of  imperial  rule.  On  the  occasion  of  a  public  ban- 
quet given  to  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  Mitchel  in  the  city  of 
Limerick  in  March,  1848,  an  O'Connellite  mob  surrounded 

in  Munster.  There  is  no  half -way  house  for  you ;  you  will  be  the 
head  of  the  movement,  loyally  obeyed ;  and  the  revolution  will  be 
conducted  with  order  and  clemency,  or  the  mere  anarchists  will  pre- 
vail with  the  people,  and  our  revolution  will  be  a  bloody  chaos.  You 
have  at  present  Lafayette's  place  as  painted  by  Lamaxtine,  and  I  be- 
lieve have  fallen  into  Lafayette's  error  of  not  using  it  to  all  its  effect 
and  in  all  its  resources.  I  am  well  aware  that  you  do  not  desire  to 
lead  or  influence  others  ;  but  I  believe  with  Lamartine  that  that  feel- 
ing, which  is  a  high  civic  virtue,  is  a  vice  in  revolutions." 


"  FORTY-EIGHT."  119 

the  hall  and  dispersed  the  company  in  a  scene  of  riot  and 
bloodshed.  The  immediate  cause  of  this  astonishing  pro- 
ceeding was  an  attack  on  the  memory  of  O'Connell  in  Mitch- 
el's  paper,  the  dead  tribune  having  been  contumeliously  re- 
ferred to  for  his  "  degrading  and  demoralizing  moral-force 
doctrines." 

One  important  class  in  Ireland — a  class  long  accustomed 
to  move  with  or  head  the  people — throughout  all  this  time 
set  themselves  invincibly  against  the  contemplated  insurrec- 
tion :  the  Catholic  clergy.  They  had  from  the  first,  as  a 
body,  regarded  the  Young  Irelanders  with  suspicion.  They 
fancied  they  saw  in  this  movement  too  much  that  was  akin 
to  the  work  of  the  Continental  revolutionists,  and  greatly  as 
they  disliked  the  domination  of  England  they  would  prefer 
it  a  thousand  times  to  such  "  liberty"  as  the  Carbonari 
would  proclaim.  At  this  time,  in  1848,  the  power  of  the 
Catholic  priests  was  unbroken,  was  stronger  than  ever.  The 
famine-scenes,  in  which  their  love  for  the  people  was  attested 
by  heroism  and  self-sacrifice  such  as  the  world  had  never 
seen  surpassed,  had  given  them  an  influence  which  none 
could  question  or  withstand.  Their  antagonism  was  fatal 
to  the  movement, — more  surely  and  infallibly  fatal  to  it  than 
all  the  power  of  the  British  Crown. 

Lord  Clarendon,  though  fully  aware  that  the  war-policy 
Young  Irelanders  were  comparatively  weak  in  numbers, 
evidently  judged  that  an  outbreak  once  begun  might  have 
an  alarming  development.  He  determined  to  strike  quickly 
and  strike  hard.  On  the  21st  of  March  O'Brien,  Meagher, 
and  Mitchel  were  arrested,  the  first  two  charged  with  sedi- 
tious speeches,  Mitchel  with  seditious  writings.  The  prose- 
cutions against  O'Brien  and  Meagher  on  this  indictment 
failed  through  disagreement  of  the  juries.  As  to  Mitchel, 
before  his  trial  by  the  ordinary  course  of  procedure  for  sedi- 
tion could  be  held,  the  Government  passed  through  Parlia- 
ment a  new  law  called  the  "  Treason  Felony  Act,"  which 
gave  greater  facilities  for  dealing  with  such  offenses.  On 


120  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  22d  of  May  he  was  arraigned  under  the  new  act  in 
Green  Street  Court-house,  Dublin,  and  on  the  26th  was 
found  guilty. 

The  Mitchelite  party  had  determined  and  avowed  that  his 
conviction — any  attempt  to  remove  him  from  Dublin  as  a 
convict — should  be  the  signal  for  a  rising ;  and  now  the 
event  had  befallen.  There  can  be  no  question  that  had  they 
carried  out  their  resolution  a  desperate  and  bloody  conflict 
would  have  ensued.  Mitchel  possessed  in  a  remarkable 
degree  the  power  of  inspiring  personal  attachment  and  devo- 
tion ;  and  there  were  thousands  of  men  in  Dublin  who  would 
have  given  their  lives  to  rescue  him.  The  Government 
were  aware  of  this,  and  occupied  themselves  in  preparations 
for  an  outbreak  in  the  metropolis.  The  Confederation  lead- 
ers, however,  who  considered  that  any  resort  to  arms  before 
the  autumn  would  be  disastrous,  strained  every  energy  in 
dissuading  the  Mitchelites  from  the  contemplated  course  of 
action.  The  whole  of  the  day  previous  to  the  conviction 
was  spent  in  private  negotiations,  interviews,  arguments,  and 
appeals.  This  labor  was  prolonged  far  into  the  night,  and 
it  was  only  an  hour  or  two  before  morning  dawned  on  the 
27th  of  May,  1848,  that  Dublin  was  saved  from  the  horrors 
of  a  sanguinary  struggle. 

The  friends  of  Mitchel  never  concealed  their  displeasure 
at  the  countermand  thus  effected  by  the  O'Brien  party,  and 
prophesied  that  the  opportunity  for  a  successful  commence- 
ment of  the  national  struggle  had  been  blindly  and  culpably 
sacrificed.  The  consent  of  the  Dublin  clubs  to  abandon  the 
rescue  or  rising  on  this  occasion  was  obtained,  however,  only 
on  the  solemn  undertaking  of  the  Confederation  chiefs  that 
in  the  second  week  of  August  the  standard  of  insurrection 
would  absolutely  be  unfurled. 

A  rumor  that  some  such  dissuasion  was  being  attempted — 
that  Smith  O'Brien  and  his  friends  were  opposed  to  the  in- 
tended conflict— spread  through  Dublin  late  on  the  evening 
of  the  26th  of  May,  and  painful  uncertainty  and  apprehen- 


"  FORTY-EIGHT."  121 

sion  agitated  the  city  next  morning.  The  Government, 
though  well  informed  through  spies  of  everything  that  was 
passing,  took  measures  in  preparation  for  all  possible  eventu- 
alities. Mitchel  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  years'  transporta- 
tion beyond  the  seas.  The  court  was  densely  crowded  with 
his  personal  and  political  friends  and  former  fellow-students 
of  Trinity  College.  He  heard  the  sentence  with  composure, 
and  then  a  silence  as  if  of  the  tomb  fell  on  the  throng  as  it 
was  seen  he  was  about  to  speak.  He  addressed  the  court  in 
defiant  tones.  "  My  lords/'  said  he,  "I  knew  I  was  setting 
my  life  on  that  cast.  The  course  which  I  have  opened  is 
only  commenced.  The  Eoman  who  saw  his  hand  burning 
to  ashes  before  the  tyrant  promised  that  three  hundred 
should  follow  out  his  enterprise.  Can  I  not  promise  for  one, 
— for  two, — for  three, — ay,  for  hundreds  ?  "  As  he  uttered 
these  closing  words  he  pointed  first  to  John  Martin,  then  to 
Devin  Reilly,  next  to  Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  and  so  on  to 
the  throng  of  associates  whom  he  saw  crowding  the  galleries. 
A  thundering  cry  rang  through  the  building,  "  Promise  for 
me,  Mitchel !  Promise  for  me  ! "  and  a  rush  was  made  to 
embrace  him  ere  they  should  see  him  no  more.  The  officers 
in  wild  dismay  thought  it  meant  a  rescue.  Arms  were 
drawn ;  bugles  in  the  street  outside  sounded  the  alarm ; 
troops  hurried  up.  A  number  of  police  flung  themselves  on 
Mitchel,  tore  him  from  the  embrace  of  his  excited  friends, 
and  hurried  him  through  the  wicket  that  leads  from  the 
dock  to  the  cells  beneath. 

It  may  be  pronounced  that  in  that  moment  the  Irish  insur- 
rectionary movement  of  1848  was  put  down. 

At  an  early  hour  that  morning  the  war-sloop  "  Shear- 
water "  was  drawn  close  to  the  north  wall  jetty  at  Dublin 
quay.  There  she  lay,  with  fires  lighted  and  steam  up,  wait- 
ing the  freight  that  was  being  prepared  for  her  in  Green 
Street  Court-house.  Scarcely  had  Mitchel  been  removed 
from  the  dock  than  he  was  heavily  manacled,  strong  chains 
passing  from  his  wrists  to  his  ankles.  Thus  fettered,  he  was 
6 


122  NEW  IRELAND. 

hurried  into  a  police- van  waiting  outside  the  gateway,  sur- 
rounded by  dragoons  with  sabers  drawn.  At  a  signal  the 
cavalcade  dashed  off,  and,  skillfully  making  a  detour  of  the 
city  so  as  to  avoid  the  streets  wherein  hostile  crowds  might 
have  been  assembled  or  barricades  erected,  they  reached  the 
' '  Shearwater  "  at  the  wharf.  Mitchel  was  carried  on  board, 
and  had  scarcely  touched  the  deck  when  the  paddles  were 
put  in  motion,  the  steamer  swiftly  sped  to  sea,  and  in  a  few 
hours  the  hills  of  Ireland  had  faded  from  view. 

The  news  of  his  conviction  and  sentence,  the  astounding 
intelligence  that  he  was  really  gone,  burst  like  a  thunder- 
clap on  the  clubs  throughout  the  provinces.  A  cry  of  rage 
went  up,  and  the  Confederation  chiefs  were  fiercely  de- 
nounced for  what  was  called  their  fatal  cowardice.  Confi- 
dence in  their  determination  vanished.  Unfortunately,  from 
this  date  forward  there  was  for  them  no  retreating.  They 
now  flung  themselves  into  the  provinces,  traversing  the 
counties  from  east  to  west,  addressing  meetings,  inspecting 
club  organizations,  inquiring  as  to  armament,  and  exhorting 
the  people  to  be  ready  for  the  fray.  Of  course  the  Govern- 
ment was  not  either  inattentive  or  inactive.  Troops  were 
poured  into  the  country ;  barracks  were  improvised,  garri- 
sons strengthened,  gunboats  moved  into  the  rivers,  flying 
camps  established  ;  every  military  disposition  was  made  for 
encountering  the  insurrection. 

In  all  their  calculations  the  Confederate  leaders  had  reck- 
oned upon  two  months  for  preparation,  which  would  bring 
them  to  the  middle  of  August.  By  no  legal  process  of  ar- 
rest or  prosecution  known  to  them  could  their  conviction  be 
effected  in  a  shorter  space  of  time.  Never  once  did  they 
take  into  contemplation  the  possibility  (and  to  men  dealing 
with  so  terrible  a  problem  it  ought  to  have  been  an  obvious 
contingency)  that  the  Government  would  dispense  with  the 
slow  and  tedious  forms  of  ordinary  procedure  and  grasp  them 
quickly  with  avenging  hand.  While  O'Brien  and  Dillon  and 
Meagher,  O'Gorman  and  McGee,  were  scattered  through  the 


"FORTY-EIGHT."  123 

country,  arranging  for  the  rising,  lo  !  the  news  reached  Dub- 
lin one  day  in  the  last  week  of  July  that  the  previous  even- 
ing the  Government  had  passed  through  Parliament  a  bill 
for  suspending  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act.  That  night  proc- 
lamations were  issued  for  the  arrest  of  the  Confederate  lead- 
ers, and  considerable  rewards  were  offered  for  their  appre- 
hension. 

This  news  found  O'Brien  at  Ballinkeele,  in  Wexford 
County.  He  moved  rapidly  from  thence  through  Kilkenny 
into  Tipperary,  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  in  the  latter 
county  a  considerable  force  with  which  to  march  upon  Kil- 
kenny city — this  having  been  selected  as  the  spot  whence  a 
provisional  government  was  to  issue  its  manifesto  calling  Ire- 
land to  arms.  Before  any  such  purpose  could  be  effected,  he 
found  himself  surrounded  by  flying  detachments  of  military 
and  police.  Between  some  of  these  and  a  body  of  the  peas- 
antry, who  had  assembled  to  escort  him  at  the  village  of 
Ballingary,  a  conflict  ensued,  the  result  of  which  showed 
him  the  utter  hopelessness  of  the  attempted  rising,  and  in 
fact  suppressed  it  there  and  then.  As  the  people  were  gath- 
ering in  thousands — and  they  would  have  assembled  in  num- 
bers more  than  sufficient  to  defeat  any  force  that  could  then 
have  been  brought  against  him — the  Catholic  clergy  appeared 
upon  the  scene.  They  rushed  amidst  the  multitude,  implor- 
ing them  to  desist  from  such  an  enterprise,  pointing  out  the 
unpreparedness  of  the  country,  and  demonstrating  the  too 
palpable  fact  that  the  Government  were  in  a  position  to 
quench  in  blood  any  insurrectionary  movement.  "  Where 
are  your  arms  ?"  they  said  : — there  were  no  arms.  "Where 
is  your  commissariat?" — the  multitude  were  absolutely 
without  food.  "'Where  are  your  artillery,  your  cavalry? 
Where  are  your  leaders,  your  generals,  your  officers  ?  What 
is  your  plan  of  campaign  ?  Mr.  O'Brien  and  Mr.  Dillon  are 
noble-minded  men  ;  but  they  are  not  men  of  military  quali- 
fication. Are  you  not  rushing  to  certain  destruction  ? " 
These  exhortations,  poured  forth  with  a  vehemence  almost 


124  NEW  IRELAND. 

indescribable,  had  a  profound  effect.  The  gathering  thou- 
sands melted  slowly  away,  and  O'Brien,  dismayed,  astounded, 
and  sick  at  heart,  found  himself  at  the  head,  not  of  fifty 
thousand  stalwart  Tipperary  men  armed  and  equipped  for  a 
national  struggle,  but  of  a  few  hundred  half-clad  and  wholly 
unarmed  peasantry.  Scarcely  had  they  set  forth  when 
they  encountered  one  of  the  police  detachments.  A  skir- 
mish took  place.  The  police  retreated  into  a  substantially- 
built  farm-house  close  by,  which,  situated  as  it  was,  they 
could  have  held  against  ten  times  their  own  force  of  military 
men  without  artillery.  The  attempt  of  the  peasantry  to 
storm  it  was  disastrous,  as  O'Brien  forbade  imperatively  the 
execution  of  the  only  resort  which  could  have  compelled  its 
evacuation.  Three  of  his  subordinates  had  brought  up  loads 
of  hay  and  straw  to  fire  the  building.  It  was  the  house  of  a 
widow,  whose  five  children  were  at  the  moment  within.  She 
rushed  to  the  rebel  chief,  flung  herself  on  her  knees,  and 
asked  him  if  he  was  going  to  stain  his  name  and  cause  by  an 
act  so  barbarous  as  the  destruction  of  her  little  ones.  O'Brien 
immediately  ordered  the  combustibles  to  be  thrown  aside, 
although  a  deadly  fusilade  from  the  police  force  within  was 
at  the  moment  decimating  his  followers.  These,  disgusted 
with  a  tenderness  of  feeling  which  they  considered  out  of 
place  on  such  an  occasion,  abandoned  the  siege  of  the  build- 
ing, and  dispersed  homeward.  Ere  the  evening  fell,  O'Brien, 
accompanied  by  two  or  three  faithful  adherents,  was  a  fugi- 
tive in  the  defiles  of  the  Kilnamanagh  Mountains.  No  bet- 
ter success  awaited  his  subordinates  elsewhere.  In  May  they 
had  prevented  a  rising  ;  now  they  found  the  country  would 
not  rise  at  their  call. 

Soon  after  Mitchel's  transportation,  Duffy  was  arrested  in 
Dublin,  and  on  the  28th  of  July  armed  police  broke  into  the 
Nation  office,  seized  the  number  of  the  paper  being  then 
printed,  smashed  up  the  types,  and  carried  off  to  the  Castle 
all  the  documents  they  could  find.  Throughout  the  country 
arrests  and  seizures  of  arms  were  made  on  all  hands.  Every 


"  FORTY-EIGHT."  125 

day  the  Hue  and  Cry  contained  new  proclamations  and  new 
lists  of  fugitives  personally  described.  There  was  no  longer 
any  question  of  resistance.  Never  was  collapse  more  com- 
plete. The  fatal  war-fever  that  came  in  a  day  vanished 
almost  as  rapidly.  Suddenly  every  one  appeared  astounded 
at  the  madness  of  what  had  been  contemplated ;  but  some- 
how very  few  seemed  to  have  perceived  it  a  month  before. 

Throughout  the  remaining  months  of  the  year  Ireland 
was  given  over  to  the  gloomy  scenes  of  special  commissions, 
state  trials,  and  death-sentences.  Of  the  leaders  or  promi- 
nent actors  in  this  abortive  insurrection,  O'Brien,  Meagher, 
MacManus,  Martin,  and  O'Doherty  were  convicted  ;  Dillon, 
O'Gorman,  and  Doheny  succeeded  in  accomplishing  their 
escape  to  America.  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  MacManus, 
with  one  of  their  devoted  companions  in  danger,  Patrick 
O'Donoghue  by  name,  having  been  convicted  of  high  treason, 
were  sentenced  to  death ;  but,  by  authority  of  a  specially- 
passed  act  of  Parliament,  the  barbarous  penalty  of  hanging, 
disemboweling,  and  quartering,  to  which  they  were  formally 
adjudged,  was  commuted  into  transportation  beyond  the 
seas  for  life.  Duffy  was  thrice  brought  to  trial ;  but, 
although  the  Crown  made  desperate  efforts  to  effect  his  con- 
viction, the  prosecution  each  time  broke  down,  baffled  by 
the  splendid  abilities  of  the  defense  conducted  by  Mr.  Isaac 
Butt,  Q.C.  Eventually  the  proceedings  against  him  were 
abandoned.  Of  less  important  participators  numbers  were 
convicted,  and  hundreds  fled  the  country  never  to  return. 
"  Forty-eight"  cost  Ireland  dearly, — not  alone  in  the  sacri- 
fice of  some  of  her  best  and  noblest  sons,  led  to  immolate 
themselves  in  such  desperate  enterprise  as  revolution,  but 
in  the  terrible  reaction,  the  prostration,  the  terrorism,  the 
disorganization  that  ensued.  Through  many  a  long  and 
dreary  year  the  country  suffered  for  the  delirium  of  that 
time. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

AFTEB-SCENES. 

A  SHOT  fired  from  that  farm-house  fortalice  at  Ballingary 
on  the  29th  of  July  went  very  near  to  diverting,  in  a  re- 
markable manner,  the  current  of  recent  Irish  history.  In 
the  deadly  fire  which  the  police  directed  on  the  insurgents, 
a  bullet  struck  a  young  Kilkenny  engineer  student  (who  was 
acting  as  aide  or  lieutenant  to  O'Brien),  badly  shattering  his 
leg,  and  otherwise  disabling  him.  Disregarding  his  wound, 
he  refused  to  retire  till  the  utter  failure  of  the  attack  was 
evident  and  the  people  were  in  full  retreat.  Then  he  was 
borne  from  the  spot  and  hurried  off  to  the  mountains,  where, 
hidden  in  a  peasant  sheeling,  he  lay  till  he  was  so  far  re- 
covered as  to  be  able  to  continue  his  flight.  His  name  was 
James  Stephens.  That  bullet  missed  the  life  of  the  future 
leader  and  chief  of  the  Fenian  conspiracy. 

He  and  Michael  Doheny  linked  their  fortunes  as  fugitives ; 
and  of  all  the  narratives  of  escape  that  might  be  told  of  that 
unhappy  time — stories  of  painful  sufferings,  of  keen  priva- 
tions, of  desperate  hazards  and  almost  fatal  dangers — theirs 
unquestionably  would  be  the  most  astonishing.  For  two 
months  they  were  hunted  over  mountain  and  moor,  through 
the  southern  and  southwestern  seaboard  counties,  hiding  in 
the  heather  and  the  bogside,  or  sheltered  in  some  peasant's 
hut,  sentineled  in  their  brief  and  feverish  slumbers  by  the 
humble  owner  of  the  dwelling.  Frequently  the  closeness  of 
pursuit  compelled  them  to  double  back  on  the  district  it  had 
cost  them  much  suffering  to  get  over ;  and  often,  in  order  to 
reach  a  point  directly  distant  but  an  hour's  walk,  they  had  to 

126 


AFTER-SCENES.  127 

make  a  detour  of  several  miles.  Their  great  anxiety  was 
to  reach  some  harbor,  whence  a  boat  might  put  them  off  to  a 
passing  ship.  Doheny  tells  of  their  endeavors  to  cross  the 
Knockmeldoun  Mountains,  and  how  on  the  southern  side  of 
those  lofty  hills  they  came  on  the  famous  Trappist  monastery 
of  Melleray.  "  It  was  Sunday ;  the  cold  and  wet  of  the 
previous  evening  had  given  way  to  calm  and  sunshine,  and 
we  made  rapid  way  along  the  slopes  of  the  Comerahs.  The 
greatest  difficulty  we  experienced  was  in  passing  deep  ravines. 
The  steep  ascent  and  descent  were  usually  wooded  and  cov- 
ered with  furze  and  briers.  Far  below  gurgled  a  rapid  and 
swollen  mountain-stream,  which  we  crossed  without  undress- 
ing, and  always  experienced  the  greatest  relief  from  the  cold 
running  water.  But  toiling  our  upward  way  through  trees 
and  thorny  shrubs  was  excessively  fatiguing.  About  three 
o'clock  in  the  evening  we  reached  the  picturesque  grounds 
of  Mount  Melleray  Abbey.  We  had  then  traveled  thirty 
miles  of  mountain  without  any  food.  The  well-known  hos- 
pitality of  the  brothers  was  a  great  temptation  to  men  in  our 
situation,  pressed  by  toil  and  hunger ;  but  we  felt  that  we 
possibly  might  compromise  the  abbot  and  brethren,  and  we 
determined  on  not  making  ourselves  known.  We  entered 
the  beautiful  chapel  of  the  abbey  and  ascended  the  gallery 
while  vespers  were  being  sung.  We  found  we  were  alone  on 
the  gallery,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  changing  our  stock- 
ings and  wiping  the  blood  from  our  feet.  We  remained 
upward  of  an  hour,  and  then  set  out  but  little  refreshed." 

Skirting  Cork  city,  they  passed  westward  to  the  wild 
mountain-regions  of  Bantry,  Glengariffe,  and  Kenmare. 
Doheny's  literary  habits  and  poetic  inspirations  were  not  to 
be  suppressed,  if  indeed  the  latter  were  not  rather  aroused 
into  greater  activity,  by  the  sufferings  and  perils  of  an  out- 
law's life.  In  the  course  of  this  flight  he  penned  several  of 
his  most  touching  ballads,  jotting  down  the  words  on  the 
back  of  an  old  letter  or  on  the  margin  of  a  newspaper.  In 
one  of  these  poems,  addressed  to  Ireland  and  written  in  a 


128  NEW  IRELAND. 

hut  on  the  Glengariffe  Mountains,  he  bewails  the  fate  of 
himself  and  comrades : 


"  'Twas  told  of  thee  the  -world  around, 

'Twas  hoped  from  thee  by  all, 
That  with  one  gallant  sunward  bound 

Thou'dst  burst  long  ages'  thrall 
The  moment  came,  alas  1  and  those 

Who  peril'd  all  for  thee 
Were  cursed  and  branded  as  thy  foes ; 

A  cuisla  gal  ma  chree. 

"  I've  run  the  outlaw's  brief  career, 

And  borne  his  load  of  ill — 
The  troubled  rest,  the  ceaseless  fear — 

With  fix'd  sustaining  will ; 
And  should  his  last  dark  chance  befall, 

Even  that  will  welcome  be  : 
In  death  I'll  love  thee  most  of  all, — 

A  cuisla  gal  ma  chree." 

In  one  of  his  gloomiest  and  most  despondent  hours — news 
had  reached  him  of  the  lamentable  privations  endured  by 
Mrs.  Doheny  in  her  endeavors  to  track  him  through  the 
hills — he  wrote  "The  Outlaw's  Wife,"  of  which  the  follow- 
ing is  the  first  stanza  : 

"  Sadly  silent  she  sits  with  her  head  on  her  hand, 

While  she  prays  in  her  heart  to  the  Ruler  above 
To  protect  and  to  guide  to  some  happier  land 

The  joy  of  her  soul  and  the  spouse  of  her  love  ; 
And  she  marks  by  her  pulses  so  wild  in  their  play 

The  slow  progress  of  time  as  it  straggles  along, 
And  she  lists  to  the  wind  as  'tis  moaning  away, 

And  she  deems  it  the  chant  of  some  funeral  song." 

At  Kenmare  Doheny  and  Stephens  met  the  friendly  hearts 
and  hands  that  were  eventually  to  effect  their  rescue.  I 
believe  I  name  publicly  for  the  first  time  the  family  to  whom 
those  hapless  fugitives  were  thus  indebted, — the  kinsmen  and 


AFTER-SCENES.  129 

friends  of  Mr.  MacCarthy  Downing,  now  member  of  Parlia- 
ment for  Cork  County.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  honorable 
gentleman  himself  was  most  directly  instrumental  in  ar- 
ranging the  escape.  Stephens  was  got  off  to  France  as  a 
servant  accompanying  a  lady  of  the  family.  Doheny  went 
on  board  the  "  Sabrina"  steamer  at  Cork  quay  driving  some 
bullocks  which  he  was  to  accompany  to  Bristol.  From  the 
latter  city  he  easily  made  his  way  to  London,  and  thence  to 
Paris,  where  not  only  Stephens,  his  late  companion,  but 
others  of  the  escaped  Confederate  leaders  gave  him  an  en- 
thusiastic welcome. 

He  proceeded  soon  after  to  America,  and  settled  in  New 
York  ;  but  fortune  did  not  smile  on  him,  though  if  a  genial 
nature  and  a  generous  heart  could  have  commanded  wealth, 
Doheny  should  have  been  a  millionaire.  He  died  in  1862. 
Two  little  children,  boys  of  three  and  five  years  respectively, 
accompanied  much  of  their  mother's  wanderings  while  the 
father  was  a  fugitive  in  1848.  Eighteen  hundred  and  sixty- 
seven  found  them  grown  to  man's  estate,  and  inmates  of 
Mountjoy  Prison,  Dublin,  for  complicity  in  the  Fenian  con- 
spiracy ! 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  none  of  the  numerous  insurgent 
fugitives  who  were  hiding  or  flying  all  over  the  country  were 
betrayed  to  their  pursuers.  There  was  a  price  upon  each 
head, — a  tempting  reward  for  apprehension  or  informa- 
tion,— and  minute  personal  descriptions  of  the  accused,  as 
given  in  the  Hue  and  Cry,  were  profusely  distributed  to  as- 
sist in  identification.*  They  had  perforce  to  demand  shelter 

*  Some  of  these  descriptions  in  the  Government  Hue  and  Cry  were 
certainly  remarkable  literary  efforts.  "  Thomas  D.  Wright,"  one  of 
the  Tipperary  insurgents,  is  set  down  as  "very  talkative,  and  thinks 
himself  a  great  politician ;  supposed  to  be  at  present  in  the  City  or 
Cove  of  Cork,  as  he  sailed  to  America  from  Liverpool  on  the  13th  of 
August  last."  "John  Sexton,"  was  described  as  having  "two  blue 
eyes  and  blind  of  one  of  them  ; "  but  in  a  subsequent  issue  this  was 
corrected,  and  he  was  pictured  as  a  man  "  with  one  blue  eye  and  blind 
of  one  eye."  "John  Lee"  is  declared  to  have  "brown  eyes  which 
G* 


130  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  rest  from  the  poorest  of  the  poor;  the  famine  still 
lingered  in  the  land  ;  and  in  no  case  were  the  peasants  at  a 
loss  to  guess  who  these  applicants  for  concealment  were. 
The  wretched  owners  of  hovels  where  some  of  them  were 
housed  for  days  were  utterly  destitute.  I  myself  knew  one 
such  instance.  Dermeen  Lynch,  of  Dromgarriff,  beneath 
whose  roof  Doheny  and  Stephens  were  hidden  and  fed  for 
two  days,  was  a  recipient  of  out-door  relief.  Dermeen  knew 
very  well  he  had  but  to  give  a  signal  to  the  police  sergeant 
in  the  Glen  below,  and  three  hundred  pounds — "wealth 
untold"  in  his  estimation — was  within  his  grasp.  But  his 
sorest  trouble  was  lest  harm  should  overtake  them  while 
under  his  roof.  I  often  talked  with  him  and  his  wife  over 
it  all  afterward.  He  was  terribly  sorry  they  ever  came,  and 
very  glad  when  they  went  away ;  but  while  they  were  on 
his  floor  he  would  die  rather  than  "sell "  them. 

It  was  said  that  the  father  of  Thomas  Francis  Meagher 
—  a  wealthy  Waterford  merchant,  who  greatly  deplored 
"  Tom's  "  rebellious  politics — employed  four  brigantines  to 
cruise  off  the  southern  and  western  coasts  to  facilitate  his 
escape.  But  he  never  got  far  from  the  scene  of  the  out- 
appears  as  if  he  had  shaved  his  whiskers."  The  following  is  copied 
verbatim  et  literatum  from  the  Hue  and  Cry  of  December  2,  1848 : 
"  Description  of  a  woman  name  unknown  who  stands  charged  with 
having  on  the  26  Nov.  at  Ballyhenry  in  the  Barony  of  Ikerin  entered 
the  dwelling-house  of  Thomas  Sweeny  and  threatened  to  blow  the  con- 
tents of  a  pistol  through  James  Hendy  who  lived  in  the  next  house  to 
said  Sweeny  but  who  happened  to  be  from  home  at  the  time  :  She  is 
twenty -three  years  of  age  five  feet  nine  inches  high,  stout  make,  fair 
complexion,  fair  hair,  grey  eyes  ;  wore  a  felt  hat,  blue  body  coat,  dark 
trousers,  and  striped  vest,  a  native  of  the  county  Tipperary." 

In  1857,  while  traveling  in  America,  I  found  myself  a  welcome 
guest  in  a  charming  little  frame-work  villa  near  Binghamton,  at  the 
junction  of  the  Susquehanna  and  the  Chenango  Eivers.  My  host, 
then  a  happy  and  prosperous  member  of  the  American  bar,  was  the 
identical  "Thomas  D.  Wright"  who,  according  to  the  Hue  and  Cry 
of  August,  1848,  was  "  supposed  to  be  at  present  in  the  City  or  Cove 
of  Cork"  because  "he  sailed  to  America"  three  weeks  previously. 


AFTER-SCENES.  131 

break  in  Tipperary.  He  certainly  might  have  made  good 
his  way  out  of  the  country  had  he  cared  to  put  forth  any 
great  exertion  so  to  do  ;  hut,  seeing  how  completely  the  at- 
tempt he  was  engaged  in  had  failed,  he  thought  a  prompt 
and  decisive  acquiescence  in  that  result  on  the  part  of  the 
leaders  and  their  adherents  would  avert  much  public  dis- 
turbance and  personal  suffering.  He  thought  also  that  such 
a  course  on  the  part  of  the  leaders,  like  himself,  as  yet  at 
large,  might  secure  better  terms  for  those  who  had  been 
captured.  Accordingly  from  his  asylum  in  the  mountains 
he  carried  on,  through  an  influential  Catholic  clergyman  of 
the  district,  a  correspondence  or  negotiation  with  the  Gov- 
ernment, offering  to  surrender,  and  to  advise  his  friends  to 
a  like  course,  on  certain  conditions  assured  for  O'Brien. 
These  efforts  came  to  naught.  On  the  night  of  the  12th  of 
August  a  police  patrol  on  the  road  from  Cashel  to  Holycross 
passed  three  pedestrians.  The  usual  friendly  salutations 
were  exchanged  between  the  parties,  and  each  went  its  way. 
Suddenly  it  occurred  to  the  police  officer  that  there  was 
something  beyond  the  common  in  the  voice  and  manner  of 
the  traveler  who  had  spoken  to  him.  He  turned  back  and 
overtook  the  party.  He  wished  to  question  one  of  them 
privately,  but  the  individual  thus  accosted  resented  such  a 
course.  "  Whatever  you  have  to  say  to  me  must  be  said  in 
the  hearing  of  my  friends,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  have  to  call 
upon  you,  then,  in  the  Queen's  name  to  tell  me  who  you 
are,"  said  the  sergeant,  adding  rather  apologetically,  "You 
know  these  are  troubled  times,  gentlemen,  and  we  are 
obliged  to  be  particular."  "All  quite  right,  my  friend,"  re- 
plied the  spokesman  of  the  party.  "  I  am  Thomas  Francis 
Meagher."  "  I,"  said  one  of  his  companions,  "  am  Maurice 
Richard  Leyne  ; "  *  "  And  I,"  added  the  other,  "  am  Patrick 
O'Donoghue." 

*  Leyne  was  a  fine  dashing  young  fellow,  genial,  generous,  chival- 
rous. He  was  a  relative  of  O'Connell,  and  was  the  only  member  of 
that  family  who  sided  with  the  Young  Ireland  party  against  the  great 


133  NEW  IRELAND. 

Dillon,  after  severe  sufferings,  got  on  board  an  emigrant- 
ship  sailing  from  Galway  to  New  York.  He  was  disguised 
as  a  Catholic  priest.  Some  clerical  friend  fully  equipped 
him  in  suitable  attire,  and  presented  him  with  a  missal, 
which,  by  the  way,  it  was  remarked  he  read  (or  pretended  to 
be  reading)  a  great  deal  oftener  than  a  veritable  clergyman 
would  think  of  doing.  On  board  the  same  ship,  utterly  un- 
known to  him,  was  a  personal  friend,  another  of  the  fugi- 
tives, who  was  equally  ignorant  of  Dillon's  presence, — Mr. 
Patrick  J.  Smyth,  now  member  of  Parliament  for  West- 
meath.  The  vessel  had  been  to  sea  for  some  days,  when 
Dillon  was  alarmed  by  noticing  one  of  the  steerage-passen- 
gers— a  man  dressed  as  a  cattle- drover — eying  him  in  a  de- 
cidedly suspicious  manner.  "It  is  a  detective,"  thought 
the  pseudo-priest:  "he  recognizes  me,  and  I  am  lost." 
Next  day  his  embarrassment  was  intensified  by  finding  the 


tribune.  In  July,  1854,  he  died,  I  might  almost  say  in  my  arms,  not 
far  from  the  scene  of  this  arrest.  The  day  after  we  had  buried  him 
in  the  church-yard  of  Thurles,  two  of  his  brothers  and  myself  strolled 
to  Holycross,  distant  three  miles,  to  see  the  ruined  abbey  of  that  name. 
We  rested  a  while  and  took  some  refreshment  in  the  neat  little  way- 
side inn  at  the  abbey  gate.  One  of  my  companions,  whose  resemblance 
to  his  brother  Maurice  was  remarkable,  entered  into  conversation  with 
the  proprietress  as  she  busied  herself  in  attending  to  us.  After  a 
while  she  looked  earnestly  at  him.  "  If  you  please,  sir,  are  you  any- 
thing to  the  gentleman  that  was  buried  in  town  yesterday?"  she  in- 
quired. "  Yes,"  he  replied  ;  "  why  do  you  ask  ? "  Her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  "  Oh,  you  are  so  like  him,  as  he  sat  there,  where  you  are  sit- 
ting this  blessed  minute,  and  asked  me  for  a  little  bread  and  milk,  the 
evening  before  he  and  Mr.  Meagher  and  the  other  gentleman  were 
took  by  the  police  on  the  road  beyond  ! "  And  the  poor  woman  sobbed 
outright  as  she  gave  us  several  particulars  of  their  movements  on  that 
day  and  night.  Two  years  ago,  passing  through  Thurles,  I  sought 
the  grave  of  my  friend  Leyne.  The  grass  was  high  in  the  rank  soil ; 
only  after  long  search  I  found  the  spot.  Above  it  stood  a  simple  slab, 
on  which  some  kindly  hand  had  placed  his  name  and  an  apt  quota- 
tion ;  "He  whose  virtues  deserved  a  temple,  now  scarce  commands  a 
stone^" 


AFTER-SCENES.  133 

countryman  ever  and  anon  throwing  rather  familiar  glances 
and  furtive  nods  and  winks  at  him.  Eventually,  coming 
close  up  to  him  on  one  pretext  or  another,  the  cattle-drover, 
in  a  hoarse  under-breath,  hurriedly  whispered,  "All  right : 
I'm  Smyth."  Dillon  started  back  in  utter  amazement,  ex- 
claiming, " Smytli  ! "  "Hush  ! "  responded  the  other ;  "  we 
may  be  watched  ; "  and  they  separated  in  the  style  of  priest 
and  peasant,  Dillon  ostentatiously  giving  the  "countryman" 
a  parting  benediction. 

But  a  new  trouble  fell  on  "his  reverence."  Among  the 
emigrants  were  a  youthful  pair  of  lovers,  who,  much  mis- 
trusting what  uncertainties  might  befall  in  the  great  land 
beyond,  suddenly  conceived  the  idea  of  getting  married 
there  and  then  on  board,  "seeing  as  how  there  was  a  priest 
in  the  ship,  just  ready  to  hand."  They  applied  to  Dillon  to 
perform  the  ceremony.  His  dismay  was  inconceivable.  He 
most  piously  exhorted  them  to  wait  till  they  landed.  No. 
"With  the  blessing  of  God,  now  was  the  time."  He  in- 
vented a  dozen  excuses,  all  in  vain,  until  he  fortunately  be- 
thought him  of  the  plea  that  he  had  not  "faculties"  from 
his  bishop  that  would  avail  in  such  a  peculiar  case. 

An  accident  divulged  his  secret.  One  day  the  sea  ran  high 
and  the  ship  pitched  and  rolled  violently.  At  dinner  his 
reverence  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  the  captain,  and  was  being 
helped  to  some  mutton,  when  the  ship  suddenly  lurched  and 
flung  dish,  joint,  and  gravy  full  into  his  bosom.  He  bounced 
from  his  seat  with  a  thundering  oath,  followed  by  a  string 
of  most  unpriestly  expletives,  quite  forgetting  himself,  till 
he  saw  the  company  staring  at  him  in  a  strange  way.  The 
captain  especially,  who  shouted  in  laughter,  seemed  enlight- 
ened by  the  incident.  "Ah,  my  dear  sir,"  said  he  to  Dil- 
lon, "I  have  had  my  suspicions  for  some  time.  I  can  guess 
what  you  are.  Be  not  afraid.  You  are  safe  from  fear  or 
harm."  From  that  day  forth  Dillon  and  Smyth  resumed 
their  real  character,  and  were  the  object  of  kindliest  atten- 
tion from  the  honest  English  sailor. 


134  NEW  IRELAND. 

Richard  O'Grorman — "Young  Richard" — escaped  in  a 
ship  sailing  from  Limerick  to  Constantinople.  His  father, 
Richard  O'Gorman,  senior,  was  a  wealthy  Dublin  merchant, 
who  took  a  leading  part  in  the  Catholic  Emancipation  and 
Repeal  movements.  The  Irish  metropolis  boasted  no  man 
more  esteemed  for  his  personal  virtues,  none  who  stood 
higher  in  commercial  or  political  integrity.  The  old  gentle- 
man seceded  along  with  the  Young  Irelanders  from  O'Connell, 
and  was  a  member  of  the  Irish  Confederation.  He  was  not, 
however,  swept  off  his  feet  by  the  revolutionary  "  tidal  wave" 
in  February,  and  was,  I  believe,  utterly  opposed  to  the  course 
of  action  into  which  his  friends  and  associates — keener  stroke 
still,  his  only  son  along  with  them — were  rashly  hurried. 
At  Constantinople  young  O'Gorman  and  his  friend  John 
O'Donnell  lay  concealed  until  they  were  able  to  obtain  pass- 
ports to  Algiers.  John  O'Mahony,  a  gentleman  farmer  of 
Kilbeheny,  Tipperary,  whose  high-treason  contribution  was 
an  attempt  to  effect  a  rising  during  the  progress  of  Smith 
O'Brien's  trial,  sailed  from  Bonmahon  to  Wales,  and  thence 
by  way  of  London  to  Paris.  MacManus  was  a  prosperous 
forwarding  agent  in  Liverpool  when  he  suddenly  quitted  the 
counting-house  and  rushed  across  to  Ireland  to  join  Smith 
O'Brien,  as  whose  second  in  command  he  figured  at  Ballin- 
gary  Common.  He  succeeded  in  baffling  all  the  vigilance 
of  pursuit  and  getting  on  board  an  emigrant-ship,  the  "  N". 
D.  Chase,"  bound  from  Liverpool  to  America.  With  joyful 
heart  he  saw  her  put  to  sea ;  but  unhappily  for  him  some 
trifling  mishap  caused  the  captain  to  run  for  Queenstown. 
A  merchant's  clerk  in  Liverpool  had,  a  week  previously, 
robbed  his  employers,  and  was  supposed  to  have  got  off  in 
this  ship.  She  was  boarded  in  Queenstown  harbor  by  the 
police  in  quest  of  the  absconding  clerk.  The  passengers 
were  paraded,  the  clerk  was  not  found,  but  a  Liverpool 
policeman  quickly  recognized  a  much  more  valuable  prize 
in  Terence  Bellew  MacManus. 

There  is  in  many  respects  a  dismal  sameness  about  state 


AFTER-SCENES.  135 

trials  for  high  treason,  and  yet  they  seem  to  have  a  weird  inter- 
est  for  spectator  and  for  reader.  Meager  and  terse  as  are  the 
reports  which  we  possess  of  the  so-called  trials  in  which  the 
last  of  the  Tudors  rid  themselves  of  supposed  or  real  "trai- 
tors," they  have  a  gloomy  fascination  all  their  own,  and  por- 
tray for  us  more  faithfully  than  many  more  elaborate  efforts 
do  the  condition  of  public  affairs  at  that  time.  It  may  be 
truly  said  that  for  four  weeks,  extending  from  the  23d  of 
September  to  the  21st  of  October,  the  attention  of  Ireland 
was  riveted  on  the  Tipperary  County  Court-house  in  Clon- 
mel,  where  the  insurgent  leaders  William  Smith  O'Brien, 
Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  and  Terence  Bellew  MacManus 
were  on  trial  for  their  lives.  O'Brien  was  defended  b.y 
Mr.  Whiteside,  Q.C.  (afterward  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Queen's  Bench),  Mr.  Francis  Fitzgerald,  Q.C.,  and  Sir  Cole- 
man  O'Loghlen,  Q.C.  Meagher  was  defended  by  Mr.  White- 
side,  Q.C.,  and  Mr.  Isaac  Butt,  Q.C.;  MacManus  by  the 
same  bar.  Of  their  conviction  there  could  have  been  little 
doubt.  No  skill  of  advocacy  could  struggle  against  the  facts 
of  the  case.  But  there  was  at  least  one  incident  of  the  trials 
which  created  an  unprecedented  sensation.  It  became  known 
that  the  defense  intended  to  subpoena  Major-Gen eral  Sir 
Charles  Napier  and  the  Prime  Minister,  Lord  John  Russell. 
What  was  this  for  ?  It  was  for  a  purpose  the  effectuation  of 
which,  though  subsequently  found  to  be  technically  forbidden 
by  the  rules  of  evidence,  would  certainly  have  thrown  a  start- 
ling light  upon  the  conduct  and  fate  of  the  men  in  the  dock. 
General  Napier  was  summoned  to  give  up  a  letter  in  his  pos- 
session proving  that  men  at  that  moment  holding  office  as 
ministers  of  the  Crown,  Lord  John  Russell,  the  First  Minis- 
ter, included,  had  in  1831-32  secretly  devised  and  arranged 
for  a  proceeding  precisely  similar  to  that  for  which  these  pris- 
oners were  now  on  trial,  namely,  a  resort  to  arms,  a  popular 
rising,  in  order  to  compel  the  Government  to  yield  the  popu- 
lar demands.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  pretty  well  known  that  at 
that  period  the  English  Reform  leaders  were  under  the  im- 


136  NEW  IRELAND. 

pression  that  the  threatened  "march  of  Birmingham  on 
London "  might  have  to  be  carried  out ;  but  that  they  had 
gone  so  far  as  to  arrange  details  of  the  revolutionary  move- 
ment, and  had  selected  the  military  men  on  whom  they  relied 
to  take  command  of  the  insurgents,  was  a  story  which  stag- 
gered all  belief.  Yet  so  it  was.  In  truth,  the  course  adopted 
by  the  Irish  Repeal  Confederates  in  1848  was  in  many  respects 
almost  identical  with  that  adopted  by  the  English  Reform 
Confederates  in  1831  and  1832.  In  the  summer  of  1831 
the  Lords  threw  out  the  Reform  Bill,  and  the  Reform  Min- 
istry appealed  to  the  country  in  a  general  election.  Not  alone 
in  this  direction  was  their  appeal  energetically  pushed.  It  was 
also  decided  that  failing  any  other  means  an  armed  revolution 
was  to  clear  the  road  blocked  up  by  the  obstructive  House  of 
Peers.  Political  clubs  or  "  unions  "  were  established  all  over 
the  country,  the  "  National  Political  Union  "  of  London  being 
the  head  center.  Every  Englishman  between  twenty-five  and 
forty-five  was  called  on  to  enroll  himself  and  to  learn  "  how 
to  resist  oppression."  The  great  object  was  to  effect  what  the 
Times  of  that  date  called  "  a  national  armament  for  a  reform 
of  law."  So  much  was  open,  public,  known  to  the  world. 
But  something  of  what  was  passing  behind  the  scenes  is 
revealed  in  the  following  "secret  and  confidential"  letter  of 
Lord  Melbourne's  private  secretary,  Mr.  Thomas  Young,  to 
General  C.  J.  Napier,  written  from  the  Home  Office  ("H. 
0.")  on  the  date  which  it  bears : 

"H.  O.,  June  25,  '32. 

"MT  DEAR  NAPIER,— 

"  Sir  H.  Bunbury  told  me  of  your  wise  determination  not  to  become 
'  a  Parliament  man,'  at  least  for  the  present.  The  offer  was  very  tempt- 
ing, and  you  have  the  more  merit  in  declining.  I  refrained  from  writing 
to  you  while  the  matter  was  undecided,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  obtrude 
my  opinion  ;  but  I  felt  that  reason  was  against  your  acceptance,  as  your 
health,  your  purse,  and  your  comfort  would  all  have  suffered  by  your 
attendance  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The  History  must  have  been  laid 
aside.  You  could  not,  moreover,  have  been  a  calm  and  silent  member, 
but  would  have  been  exerting  yourself  to  push  onward  the  movement 


AFTER-SCENES.  137 

faster  than  it  probably  will  march,  or  than,  perhaps,  all  things  consid- 
ered, it  is  desirable  that  it  should  march. 

"  Let  us  go  back  a  moment. 

"  The  display  of  energy,  and  a  readiness  to  act,  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple when  the  Duke  of  W was  on  the  eve  of  coming  in  was  greater 

far  than  I  expected.  I  speak  not  of  the  Cockneys,  but  of  the  men  in 
the  north, — Glasgow,  Newcastle,  Birmingham.  Are  you  aware  that  in 
the  event  of  a  fight  you  were  to  be  invited  to  take  the  command  at  Bir- 
mingham ?  Parkes  got  a  frank  from  me  for  you  with  that  view,  but 
had  no  occasion  to  send  it.  Had  he  written,  I  should  have  fired  a  dis- 
patch at  you  with  my  friendly  and  anxious  counsel  and  entreaty  to  keep 
you  quiet  and  not  to  stir  from  Freshford.  It  is  not  well  to  enter  early 
into  revolutions  :  the  first  fall  victims.  What  do  you  think  would  have 
happened  ?  The  Reformers— Place,  etc.  —talked  big  to  me,  and  felt  as- 
sured of  success.  The  run  upon  the  banks,  and  the  barricading  of  the 
populous  country  towns,  would  have  brought  matters  to  a  crisis  ;  a  week 
they,  the  Reformers,  thought  would  finish  the  business.  They  meant 
so  to  agitate  here  that  no  soldiers  could  have  been  spared  from  London ; 
and  the  army  is  too  small  elsewhere  to  have  put  down  the  rebels.  In 
Scotland  I  believe  the  most  effectual  blow  would  have  been  struck  ; 
and  it  seems  difficult  to  have  resisted  the  popular  movement.  The 
Tories,  however,  say  the  Duke  would  have  succeeded.  No  doubt  the 
discipline  under  which  soldiers  live  might  have  proved  a  stronger  ele- 
ment than  the  public  enthusiasm,  i.  e.,  unless  the  latter  was  universal 
or  extensive,  and  then  it  would  have  carried  all  before  it.  The  task 
would  have  been  to  bring  back  society  to  its  former  quiet  state.  Thank 
God  we  have  been  spared  the  trial ;  but  as  a  matter  of  speculation,  tell 
me  what  you  think  would  have  been  the  result  ?  Am  I  right  in  my 
conjecture  that  you  would  have  refused  the  Birmingham  invite  and 
kept  your  sword  in  its  scabbard  ?— Yours  ever  truly, 

"  T.  Y. 

"  Thanks  for  your  first  volume.     Jones  has  come  back  better." 

This  was  very  much  the  plan  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  Dil- 
lon seemed  to  have  in  view.  By  keeping  the  metropolis  in 
a  state  of  excitement,  menace,  and  alarm,  the  chief  portion 
of  the  troops  would  be  detained  therein,  while  the  "  barri- 
cading of  the  populous  towns"  would  have  brought  matters 
to  a  crisis  in  the  provinces.  They  too  thought  it  would  be 
"  difficult  to  have  resisted  the  popular  movement,"  and  that 
"public  enthusiasm"  "would  have  carried  all  before  it." 


138  NEW  IRELAND. 

None  of  them,  however,  could  now  exclaim,  "  Thank  God 
we  have  been  spared  the  trial."  They  were  not  spared  it, 
and  the  result  to  them  was  ruin. 

As  to  "my  dear  Napier,"  the  Eeform  Confederates  in  the 
"H.  0."  mistook  their  man.  Sir  Charles  was  much  of  a 
Kadical,  but  he  was  more  of  a  soldier.  He  had  very  stern 
ideas  of  discipline  and  loyalty,  and  he  quite  fired  up  on 
receipt  of  "T.  Y.'s"  astounding  communication,  in  which 
he  was  so  cleverly  "  felt"  as  to  whether  he  would  not  have 
drawn  his  sword  as  an  insurgent  commander.  He  replied 
in  terms  of  strong  indignation.  He  called  the  proposition 
an  insult  to  his  honor  as  a  soldier  and  his  loyalty  as  a  sub- 
ject. As  to  the  communication  being  "  confidential,"  he 
repelled  any  obligation  of  confidence  between  him  and  "  con- 
spirators." He  would,  however,  he  said,  make  no  public 
use  of  the  letter  unless  in  one  event,  namely,  if  ever  any  of 
the  men  who  were  concerned  in  this  1831  business  attempted 
to  prosecute  others  for  similar  designs,  he  would  hold  him- 
self at  liberty  to  hand  over  the  letter  as  a  punishment  on  its 
authors  and  a  warning  to  all  whom  it  might  concern. 

This  event  exactly  had  arisen,  and  Sir  Charles  at  once 
gave  "T.  Y.'s"  letter  to  the  public. 

It  was  not  allowed  to  be  put  in  evidence  at  Clonmel.  Two 
wrongs  do  not  make  a  right.  In  the  eye  of  the  law  it  could 
be  no  excuse  for  William  Smith  O'Brien  that  Lord  Mel- 
bourne or  Mr.  Attwood,  or  Lord  John  Kussell  or  Mr.  Young, 
had  intended  if  necessary  to  do  in  1831  what  he  conspired 
to  attempt  in  1848.  So  O'Brien  and  Meagher,  and  Mac- 
Manus  and  O'Donohue,  having  been  found  guilty  of  high 
treason,  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  beheaded,  disem- 
boweled, and  quartered. 

The  revelations  of  the  "T.  Y."  letter  had,  however,  one 
striking  result  :  they  rendered  impossible  the  execution  of 
this  death-sentence.  Although  in  Spain  the  successful  rebel 
of  Monday  who  is  the  prime  minister  of  Tuesday  orders  the 
unsuccessful  conspirator  of  Wednesday  to  be  shot  on  Thurs- 


AFTER-80ENE8.  139 

day,  it  was  felt  that  for  "T.  Y.'s"  friends  to  advise  the 
Queen's  signature  to  O'Brien's  death-warrant  would  be  too 
much  for  public  opinion.  There  was  a  legal  difficulty  in 
the  way  of  avoiding  such  a  terrible  event ;  but  ex  post  facto 
legislation  is  quite  common  and  very  convenient  in  Irish 
affairs.  A  special  act  was  passed  whereby  the  capital  sen- 
tences were  commuted  in  each  case  to  penal  servitude  beyond 
the  seas  for  life ;  and  on  the  29th  of  July,  1849,  the  first 
anniversary  of  the  abortive  rising,  the  war-brig  "  Swiftsure  " 
sailed  from  Kingstown  harbor,  bearing  O'Brien,  Meagher, 
MacManus,  and  O'Donohue  to  the  convict  settlements  of 
Australia. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  CEIMSON   STAIN1. 

AT  eleven  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  1st  of 
March,  1848,  three  murderers  were  led  out  to  die  in  front  of 
Clonmel  jail.  Around  the  scaffold  were  assembled  a  dense 
throng  of  people,  townsmen  and  peasants,  men  and  women, 
every  eye  strained  on  the  three  gibbets  and  the  three  looped 
cords  that  swayed  in  the  morning  breeze.  In  all  the  crowd 
no  voice  denied  that  these  men  deserved  their  doom.  The 
crime  was  black  ;  the  evidence  clear  ;  the  conviction  just. 
And  yet  even  before  the  dismal  procession  of  the  condemned 
came  into  view,  pitying  exclamations  might  be  heard  bewail- 
ing that  they  should  perish  thus  "  so  young."  Close  by  the 
scaffold  glittered  the  bayonets  of  two  companies  of  the  47th, 
and  on  the  flank  the  drawn  sabers  of  the  4th  Light  Dragoons. 
It  was  plain  that  the  authorities  did  not  choose  to  trust 
merely  to  the  strong  party  of  police  which  occupied  the 
other  side  to  guard  against  eventualities. 

A  murmur  from  the  crowd  directed  attention  to  a  figure 
which  appeared  on  the  scaffold.  It  was  the  hangman.  He 
coolly  examined  the  ropes,  and  looked  to  the  noose  of  each  to 
see  whether  it  ran  smoothly.  He  tried  the  drops  or  traps, 
and  shot  the  bolts  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  clear  and 
free.  So  far  the  people  gazed  silently,  as  these  performances 
were  gone  through  ;  but  when  they  saw  him  pull  out  of  his 
pocket  a  piece  of  soap  or  grease  and  apply  it  to  the  ropes,  a 
yell  of  indignation  arose,  and  he  disappeared  through  the 
doorway  into  the  jail  amidst  a  storm  of  execration. 

Soon  the  prison-bell  began  to  toll,  and,  as  the  death-knell 

140 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  141 

sounded,  the  crowd  fell  on  their  knees.  Through  the  door- 
way leading  to  the  scaffold  there  emerged  the  tall  figure  of 
Father  John  Power  (the  present  Catholic  Bishop  of  Water- 
ford),  in  surplice  and  soutane  ;  his  voice  reciting  the  Office 
for  the  Dying,  reaching  to  the  farthest  bound  of  the  hushed 
multitude.  Then  came  the  prisoners, — three  young  men, 
two  of  them  brothers  ;  and  foul  as  was  their  crime,  one  now 
could  understand  the  compassion  of  the  women  in  the  crowd. 
They  were  really  fine-looking  young  peasants  ;  the  eldest 
could  hardly  have  been  twenty-three.  The  brothers,  Henry 
and  Philip  Cody,  were  to  be  executed  for  the  murder  of 
Laurence  Madden,  nine  months  before  ;  and  John  Lonergan 
— "  the  widow's  son,"  as  he  was  designated  by  the  witnesses 
on  the  trial — for  shooting  Mr.  William  Rae,  J.P.,  at  Kock- 
well.  The  executioner  first  put  the  rope  around  the  neck 
of  Lonergan,  who  asked  the  people  all  to  pray  for  him. 
Henry  Cody,  who  stood  at  the  narrow  doorway,  saw  the 
process  which  was  so  soon  to  be  gone  through  with  himself. 
As  if  in  answer  to  Lonergan's  appeal,  he  cried  aloud,  "Lord 
Jesus,  have  mercy  on  us !  Lord,  have  mercy  on  him  !  Lord, 
have  mercy  on  us  ! "  Then  the  hangman  approached  the 
younger  Cody,  and,  having  put  the  cap  on  his  face,  began 
to  place  the  noose  on  his  neck.  In  so  doing,  it  is  thought, 
he  made  some  observation  which  reached  Henry's  ear.  At 
sound  of  the  voice  he  started  as  if  pierced  by  an  arrow.  He 
ceased  praying,  and  was  observed  to  tremble  from  head  to 
foot.  The  fact  is,  it  was  currently  reported,  though  I  believe 
quite  groundlessly,  that  the  man  who  acted  as  executioner 
was  the  identical  Crown  witness  who  had,  as  the  people  ex- 
pressed it,  "  sworn  away  the  lives  "  of  the  hapless  brothers. 
That  he  marvelously  resembled  him  is,  at  all  events,  indu- 
bitable ;  and  whether  the  elder  Cody  had  heard  the  rumor, 
or  recognized,  as  he  fancied,  the  voice  of  the  "  approver," 
there  is  now  no  knowing  ;  but,  plainly,  he  believed  this  was 
the  man.  He  sprang  at  the  hangman,  and,  with  his  bound 
and  manacled  hands,  smote  him  again  and  again.  Then 


142  NEW  IRELAND. 

he  seized  him,  dragged  him  to  the  front,  and  by  main  force 
tried  to  fling  him  over  the  railing  of  the  scaffold.  It  was  an 
awful,  a  horrible  sight  !  Murderer  and  hangman  gripped  in 
deadly  struggle,  the  latter  screaming  aloud  for  mercy  and 
for  help.  Beyond  doubt,  Cody,  even  with  arms  strapped  and 
pinioned,  would  have  succeeded  in  his  deadly  purpose  had 
not  some  of  the  warders  rushed  over.  The  younger  brother 
heard  the  struggle,  and  knew  something  unusual  had  hap- 
pened ;  but,  having  the  cap  over  his  face,  he  could  not  see. 
Father  Power,  fearful  lest  he  might  know  what  it  was,  kept 
resolutely  at  his  side,  fervently  pouring  prayers  and  exhorta- 
tions into  his  ear.  At  last  Philip  heard  Henry's  voice  in  the 
struggle,  and,  despite  all  the  priest  could  do,  he  managed  to 
tear  the  covering  from  his  face,  when,  lo  !  he  saw  his  brother 
and  the  hangman  in  frightful  encounter.  He  tried  to  rush 
to  Henry's  aid,  but  Father  Power  flung  his  arms  around 
him.  "  Oh,  my  child,  my  child  !  for  the  sake  of  that  Jesus, 
your  God  who  gave  Himself  to  His  executioners,  do  not,  do 
not !  Oh,  think  of  the  Son  of  God  !  oh,  think  you  are  go- 
ing to  meet  your  Creator  and  Judge  ! "  And  the  good 
priest,  fairly  overcome,  sobbed  aloud.  Then  the  unhappy 
young  man  let  his  head  fall  on  Father  Power's  shoulder, 
and  he  too  cried  like  a  child  :  "  Oh,  Henry  !  Henry  !  My 
brother  !  My  brother  !  Oh,  God  !  Oh,  God  ! " 

Eye-witnesses  of  that  scene  speak  of  it  to-day  only  with  a 
shudder.  The  idea  of  launching  into  the  presence  of  God 
men  with  souls  aflame  with  passion  of  deadliest  hate  and 
vengeance  was  something  dreadful  to  contemplate  ;  and 
Father  Power  appealed  to  the  sheriff  to  postpone  for  a  while 
the  execution.  That  gentleman  himself,  utterly  shocked 
and  indeed  overcome,  would  willingly  have  complied,  but 
there  was  a  legal  compulsion  then  and  there  to  carry  out  the 
law  ;  and  the  brothers,  who  for  a  moment  had  been  taken  to 
the  rear  of  the  scaffold,  were  again  broiight  forward.  The 
people,  who  throughout  had  given  way  to  the  deepest  emo- 
tion,— women  crying  and  wailing,  others  praying  aloud,  and 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  143 

several  fainting, — thought,  for  a  moment,  the  execution 
would  be  put  off.  When  they  saw  the  condemned  led  out 
again,  a  roar  of  grief  and  anger  rose  from  the  crowd,  but  at 
a  gesture  from  Father  Power  they  suddenly  hushed,  and 
once  more  sank  on  their  knees.  The  three  men  were  held 
on  the  traps  ;  the  bolts  were  drawn,  and  justice  was  vindi- 
cated, under  circumstances  such  as  I  hope  may  never  be 
paralleled  in  our  land. 

This  was  but  one  day's  work  out  of  several  of  a  similar 
character  in  that  spring  of  1848.  The  assizes  that  year 
were  heavy,  and  Tipperary,  unfortunately,  had  contributed  a 
gloomy  calendar.  The  peasantry  of  that  county,  physically 
one  of  the  finest  people  in  the  world,  have  strong  character- 
istics, strangely-mixed  vices  and  virtues.  They  are  hot  and 
passionate  ;  brave  and  high-spirited  ;  deadly  in  their  ven- 
geance ;  generous,  hospitable  ;  ready  to  repay  kindness  with 
kindness,  hate  with  hate,  violence  with  violence.  When  not 
under  the  influence  of  passion,  "more  fearful  than  the 
storm  that  sweeps  their  hills,"  they  are  one  of  the  most 
peaceable,  orderly,  and  moral  populations  in  the  empire. 
There  seems  to  be  hardly  any  middle  character  in  Tipperary 
assizes.  The  calendar  is  either  a  blank  as  to  serious  offenses, 
or  is  black  with  crimes  that  tell  how  lightly  human  life  is 
valued  where  revenge  reduces  men  to  savagery.  Many  of 
the  most  serious  of  these  outbursts  in  that  county  had  their 
origin  in  provocation  in  which  technical  law  and  actual  jus- 
tice were  wof  ully  antagonized ;  and  the  facts  that  most  deeply 
shock  one  in  contemplating  the  subject — the  cowardly  self- 
ishness or  guilty  connivance  of  eye-witnesses  of  murder,  or 
the  sympathy  and  shelter  extended  to  the  assassin — are  the 
evil  and  accursed  fruit  of  a  system  which  had  made  the  people 
look  upon  "  law  "  as  an  enemy,  not  a  protector. 

It  is  now  some  twenty  years  since,  on  the  occasion  of  an 
execution  for  murder  in  Tipperary  which  agitated  all  Ireland, 
— the  hanging  of  the  brothers  Cormack  for  the  murder  of 
Mr.  Ellis,  of  Templemore — I  decided  to  go  down  specially 


144  NEW  IRELAND. 

to  visit  the  scene  of  the  crime,  being  anxious  to  satisfy  my- 
self as  to  the  controversy  then  raging  in  reference  to  the 
innocence  or  guilt  of  the  executed  men.  During  my  stay  I 
was  the  guest  of  a  gentleman  whose  friendship  was  a  passport 
to  the  intimate  confidence  of  the  peasantry.  I  spent  some 
time  in  driving  and  riding  with  him  through  the  county ; 
and  not  only  did  I  ascertain  the  real  history  of  the  particular 
case  I  came  to  investigate,  but  I  gathered  from  sources  ac- 
cessible to  few  a  goodly  store  of  information  on  the  whole 
subject  of  the  land-feud  in  Tipperary.  It  was  very  evident 
that  nothing  less  than  a  state  of  war,  sullenly  smoldering 
or  fiercely  bursting  into  flame,  had  prevailed  for  half  a  cen- 
tury between  class  and  class  in  that  county.  The  later 
troubles  commenced  with  nocturnal  raids  for  arms.  Long 
before  they  took  the  shape  of  personal  violence  or  direct 
attempt  on  life,  the  disturbances  in  Tipperary  seemed  to  have 
entirely  for  their  object  the  possession  of  such  guns,  pistols, 
or  blunderbusses  as  could  be  obtained  by  attacking  the  houses 
of  the  gentry.  Every  night  the  country  was  scoured  by 
parties  of  men  demanding  arms,  and  taking  them  by  force 
where  refused.  As  might  have  been  easily  foreseen,  this  very 
speedily  and  inevitably  led  to  life-taking  on  both  sides ;  and 
then,  blood  once  spilt,  a  dreadful  state  of  things  ensued.  The 
audacity  and  daring  of  the  peasantry  in  some  of  these  attacks 
were  truly  marvelous.  They  publicly  erected  a  barricade 
across  the  mail-coach  road  in  the  parish  of  Boherlahan,  near 
Clonoulty,  in  order  to  rob,  not  the  mail-bag  or  its  contents, 
but  the  arms  of  the  mail-guard.  The  fact  that  the  coach  was 
known  to  have  a  dragoon  escort,  so  far  from  deterring  them, 
only  offered  a  greater  inducement  to  the  enterprise  ;  for  the 
dragoons  carried  sabers  and  carbines.  Two  of  the  peasantry, 
a  man  named  Lahy,  and  another  named  Eyan,  were  told  off 
the  night  before  to  encounter  the  dragoons  while  two  others 
attacked  the  coach.  At  the  first  volley  one  of  the  dragoons 
fell  dead.  The  other  fled.  The  coach-guards  made  more 
resolute  defense.  For  five  minutes  a  deadly  fire  was  main- 


THE  CEIMSON  STAIN.  145 

tained  between  them  and  the  assailants ;  but  eventually  the 
latter  prevailed,  and  all  the  guns  and  pistols  in  the  coach, 
eleven  stand  of  arms,  -were  handed  over.  Strange  to  say,  none 
of  the  attacking  party  were  seriously  wounded,  though  beside 
the  dragoon  who  was  killed  some  of  the  guards  and  two  of 
the  passengers  suffered  more  or  less  severely.  Listening  to 
these  narratives  from  eye-witnesses,  and  in  some  instances,  I 
more  than  suspect,  participators,  what  most  perplexed  and 
confounded  me  was  the  way  in  which,  in  the  midst  of  some 
episode  of  lawlessness  and  sanguinary  violence,  some  trait  of 
fidelity  or  act  of  generosity  would  appear  "like  a  fly  in 
amber."  The  "servant-boy,"  who  would  go  out  at  night 
"  in  turn"  to  rob  other  houses,  would  quite  resolutely  defend 
his  own  master's  residence  against  his  companions,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  "not  fair"  to  approach  a  door  intrusted 
to  his  care.  The  house  of  a  Mr.  Fawcett,  a  Protestant  gen- 
tleman farmer  near  Cashel,  was  attacked,  of  all  days  in  the 
year,  on  a  Christmas-day.  The  gentleman  himself  was  away 
in  Dublin ;  and  the  place  was  in  charge  of  his  son,  aged 
twenty,  and  a  servant- boy  named  Gorman.  A  servant-girl 
saw  a  party  of  men  coming  up  the  lawn,  and,  guessing  their 
errand,  she  rushed  in  and  gave  the  alarm.  Gorman  recog- 
nized them  well  enough;  he  had  been  "out"  with  them 
many  a  night  on  similar  work ;  but  now  he  was  in  charge  of 
"  the  master's  "  property,  and  he  would  defend  it.  He  and 
young  Fawcett  barricaded  the  hall  door  and  windows.  Some 
of  the  assailants  got  in  through  the  rear  of  the  house,  but  a 
cross-door  in  the  hall  barred  their  way  to  where  the  guns 
which  they  wanted  were  kept.  This  they  sought  to  force, 
Gorman  expostulating  and  threatening  to  fire.  They  seem 
not  to  have  credited  this,  and  persisted,  when,  finding  the 
door  likely  to  yield,  he  aimed  through  a  small  fan-light  at 
the  top  and  mortally  wounded  the  chief  assailant,  a  young 
man  named  Buckley.  The  party  fled,  carrying'  their  dis- 
abled leader  ;  but  eventually  they  found  that  escape  was 
impossible  with  a  wounded  man,  streaming  with  blood,  in 
7 


146  NEW  IRELAND. 

their  arms.  What  were  they  to  do  ?  They  hid  him  in  some 
brushwood  near  a  running  stream,  telling  him  on  no  account 
to  make  a  noise,  and  promising  that  they  would  return  for 
him  at  night.  He  endured  great  agony  from  thirst,  and, 
his  resolution  giving  way,  he  cried  aloud  for  water.  Some 
women  coming  from  mass  heard  the  moans,  and  discovering 
where  he  lay,  brought  him  some  water  in  his  hat.  This 
done,  he  implored  them  to  "pass  on,  and  say  nothing." 
They  knew  what  was  meant  and  silently  went  their  way. 
When  night  fell,  his  companions  returned  with  a  door  on 
which  to  bring  him  home  ;  but  as  they  were  fording  the  Suir 
at  Ballycamus  they  discovered  that  it  was  a  corpse  they  were 
bearing.  He  was  dead  1  Deciding  not  to  shock  his  poor 
mother  by  bringing  the  body  to  the  door,  they  concealed  it 
in  a  brake,  setting  watches  to  guard  it  day  and  night  till 
they  could  give  it  suitable  interment.  By  this  time,  of 
course,  tidings  of  the  attack  on  Mr.  Fawcett's  house  had 
reached  the  authorities,  and  Mr.  Wilcox,  K.M.,  and  Cap- 
tain Long,  J.P.,  of  Longfield,  with  a  strong  party  of  police, 
commenced  to  search  from  house  to  house  for  a  wounded 
man,  so  as  to  get  a  clue  to  his  companions.  Gorman,  who 
had  shot  Buckley,  and  who  knew  him  well,  declared  that  all 
the  assailants  were  utter  strangers  !  Buckley's  companions 
made  a  levy  on  the  associates  throughout  the  barony,  and 
raised  fifty  pounds  for  his  mother,  to  whom  they  broke  the 
news  of  his  fate.  When  the  magistrates  asked  her  where 
her  son  was,  she  said  he  had  gone  to  seek  work  near  Cahir. 
Buckley  had  a  grand  midnight  funeral ;  but  some  one 
"peached;"  Captain  Long  got  word  of  the  burial,  and 
next  night,  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  police,  came  to  disinter 
the  body  and  examine  it.  Some  one,  however,  peached  on 
the  police  too,  for  an  hour  before  they  arrived  at  the  grave- 
yard the  coffin  had  been  dug  up  by  Buckley's  comrades  and 
carried  off  to  the  mountains.  It  is  a  positive  fact  that  for 
two  months  this  chase  after  the  corpse  went  on  :  four  or  five 
times  it  was  buried,  and  as  often  hurriedly  disinterred.  At 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  147 

length  the  search  had  to  be  given  up,  and  one  night  Buck- 
ley was  borne  back  to  his  father's  grave  at  Ballyshehan, 
where  he  has  since  lain.  The  dismal  sequel  to  this  strange 
story  is  that  Captain  Long,  for  having  exerted  himself  so 
actively  in  the  endeavor  to  discover  Buckley's  associates, 
was  shot  dead  in  his  own  house  some  few  months  subse- 
quently. 

"  Cut "  Quinlan  is  a  name  that  will  long  be  remembered 
in  Tipperary.  Two  brothers  Quinlan,  Michael  and  "  Cut," 
— the  latter  a  soubriquet — lived  in  the  parish  of  Anacarthy, 
not  far  from  the  Limerick  Junction  railway-station.  They 
held  a  small  farm  from  a  Mr.  Black.  On  the  same  estate 
lived  four  brothers,  named  Hennessy,  one  of  whom  filled  the 
dangerous  office  of  "  rent-warner  "  to  Mr.  Black.  The  Quin- 
lans  were  evicted,  and  they  suspected  the  Hennessys  had  led 
Mr.  Black  to  the  act, — a  suspicion  strengthened  to  conviction 
when  the  land  from  which  they  had  been  dispossessed  was 
given  to  the  Hennessys.  In  that  hour  a  frightful  purpose 
took  possession  of  "Cut."  It  was  nothing  less  than  a  re- 
solve to  pursue  to  death  every  one  of  the  Hennessys.  The 
rent-warner,  Dennis,  was  shot  about  three  months  after  the 
eviction  of  the  Quinlans.  Tom  Hennessy  was  waylaid  and 
murdered  on  the  public  road  from  Anacarthy  to  Graffon.  No 
evidence  could  be  found  to  connect  "  Cut "  with  either  crime, 
though  no  one  doubted  his  guilt.  Davy  Hennessy,  seeing 
that  destruction  awaited  the  family,  emigrated  to  America. 
Here,  however,  he  was  encountered  and  shot  dead  by  the 
younger  Quinlan.  What  became  of  the  fourth  Hennessy  I 
never  heard.  "Cut"  Quinlan  now  gave  himself  up  to  a 
career  of  desperation,  constituting  himself  a  sort  of  general 
avenger  against  bailiffs,  agents,  landlords,  and  all  other 
"  oppressors  "  in  the  county.  A  peasant  widow  in  consider- 
able distress  had  her  scanty  household  goods  and  farm-stock 
seized  for  poor-rate.  Three  keepers  who  were  in  charge  of 
the  seizure  were  spending  the  night  in  the  parlor  of  the 
house,  when  suddenly  about  midnight  the  window  was  dashed 


148  NEW  IRELAND. 

in  and  the  blood-thirsty  "  Cut "  sprang  into  the  room.  The 
bailiffs  knew  they  had  no  mercy  to  expect,  and  tried  to  make 
for  the  door.  He  shot  one  dead.  Another  in  his  terror  at- 
tempted to  escape  up  the  chimney.  The  murderer  pulled 
him  down  by  the  feet  and  blew  out  his  brains  with  a  pistol- 
shot.  The  third  by  this  time  had  jumped  through  the  win- 
dow and  got  out.  Quinlan  followed,  overtook,  and  shot  him. 
No  one  survived  to  tell  the  bloody  tale  to  judge  or  jury,  and 
the  assassin  walked  abroad  unpunished. 

At  length  "  Cut "  began  to  find  that  popular  feeling  had 
been  decidedly  revolted  by  his  career,  and  things  were  getting 
uncomfortable  for  him.  He  disappeared,  no  one  for  some 
time  knew  whither.  Eventually  letters  reached  Anacarthy 
to  say  that  "  Cut "  had  enlisted  in  the  service  of  the  Queen, 
and  was  now  in  India.  Years  flew  by.  Sobraon,  Aliwal, 
and  Chillianwallah  had  stirred  the  heart  of  England,  and 
the  glory-crowned  troops  of  Great  Britain  came  home  to  re- 
ceive a  nation's  welcome.  In  their  ranks  returned  "Cut" 
Quinlan.  He  had  fought  through  the  Sutlej  campaign,  had 
distinguished  himself  as  the  most  daring  and  courageous, 
and,  incredible  as  it  sounds,  one  of  the  best-conducted  men 
in  the  regiment !  He  took  his  discharge  from  the  army,  and 
came  back  to  Tipperary,  where  it  soon  became  notorious  that 
he  was  once  more  the  leader  in  every  outrage.  One  day 
Father  Mullaly,  parish  priest  of  Anacarthy,  was  riding  home 
from  a  sick  call,  when  he  overtook  "  Cut."  "  Quinlan,"  said 
he,  "  I  heard  you  conducted  yourself  well  in  India.  I  wish 
to  God  you  had  stayed  there,  for  your  own  sake  and  every 
one  else's ! " 

"Shure,  yer  reverence,  where  should  one  come  to  but  his 
native  place  ?  " 

"Ah,  Quinlan,  the  place  for  one  to  come  to  is  where  he 
will  not  revolt  God  and  man  with  crime." 

"  Crime  !  yer  reverence  !    Crime  !  is  it  me -" 

"  Silence,  sir  !  don't  attempt  this  trifling  with  me.  You 
know  well,  Quinlan,  the  life  you've  been  leading.  You  have 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  149 

escaped  the  law  for  want  of  evidence,  but  you  won't  escape 
God.  His  justice  will  not  be  balked.  "Wretched  man,  you  have 
been  in  the  thick  of  battle  in  India.  "While  bullets  rained 
around  you,  God  spared  you,  perhaps  to  give  you  yet  another 
chance  of  repentance.  I  had  hoped  when  you  came  home 
that  I  should  see  you  a  reformed  man.  I  am  your  pastor  ; 
God  will  require  of  me  an  account  of  your  soul,  will  ask  what 
efforts  I  have  made  to  bring  you  to  the  paths  of  virtue.  Oh, 
wretched  man !  I  implore  of  you,  by  the  merciful  God  whose 
forbearance  you  are  outraging,  give  up  your  course  of  crime. 
Come  to  the  tribunal  of  penance,  and  by  hearty  sorrow 
and  honest  life  endeavor  to  repair  the  scandal  you  have 
given." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  appeal  "Cut "looked  on  every 
side  to  see  if  he  could  escape  by  a  run  ;  but  he  knew  Father 
Mullaly  well ;  and  furthermore  he  knew  Father  Mullaly's 
cob  could  take  fence  and  dike  like  a  greyhound.  He  could 
not  fly,  and  had  to  listen. 

"  Well,  Quinlan,  will  you  make  up  your  mind  to  come  to 
confession,  in  the  name  of  God  ?  " 

"  Well,  yer  reverence,  shure  'tis  you  that  can  spake  hard 
to  a  boy,  only  I  know  you  mane  it  for  good." 

"  But  will  you  come  ?    Answer  me,  sir." 

"  Oh  I  will  I,  is  it  ?  Well,  do  ye  see,  sir — of  course  'tis 
right  I  should  go  to  my  duty." 

"  But  will  you  promise  ?  " 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"I  will,  yer  reverence." 

"But  when  ?  next  Saturday  ?" 

"  Ah,  now,  Father  Mullaly,  you're  coming  too  hard  on  me 
entirely.  There  are  raysons  why  I  can't  go." 

"Reasons  why  you  can't  become  reconciled  with  Almighty 
God,  by  repenting  your  past  crimes  and  resolving  to  amend 
in  the  future?" 

"Well,  now,  yer  reverence,  the  fact  of  it  is  there's  a  thief 
of  a  Scotchman  beyant  there  that  I " 


150  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  What,  sir — what  ?  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  to  my 
face  that  you  meditate  more  crime " 

"  Oh,  no,  yer  reverence  :  I  only  mane  I'm  not  able  yet  to 
say  I  forgive  these  infernal  Scotchmen  who  come  over  here 
taking  ten  or  twenty  farms  from  honest  people ;  begor,  taking 
a  whole,  country-side  for  a  sheep-walk,  and  the  people  turned 
out  to  die.  No,  Father  Mullaly,  I  won't  go  to  confession,  for 
I  can't  say  'tis  a  sin  I'd  be  sorry  for  to  shoot  a  Scotchman." 

The  parish  priest,  undaunted,  returned  to  the  attack,  and 
pressed  "  Cut "  so  hard  that  at  length  he  promised  faithfully 
he  would  come  to  confession  and  "make  his  peace  with  God" 
on  Saturday. 

On  that  day  Father  Mullaly,  sitting  in  his  confessional, 
saw  "  Cut"  enter  the  chapel  and  kneel  on  the  floor  in  a  se- 
cluded spot.  The  priest  waited  and  waited,  till  two  hours 
flew  by.  He  could  see  Quinlan  in  fervent  prayer,  beating 
his  breast,  and  actually  wetting  the  floor  with  his  tears.  But 
he  made  no  sign  toward  approaching  the  confessional.  At 
length  Father  Mullaly  had  to  come  away,  leaving  Quinlan 
still  bowed  on  the  floor.  A  fortnight  later  they  met  once 
more,  and  the  parish  priest  was  beginning  to  reproach  "  Cut," 
when  the  latter  exclaimed,  "  Say  nothing  to  me  to-day,  yer 
reverence.  I'm  going  on  Monday."  Monday  came,  and  the 
former  scene  was  repeated  with  like  result.  Quinlan  prayed 
for  hours,  but  avoided  the  confession.  Nearly  two  months 
elapsed  before  his  reverence  was  able  to  catch  sight  of  "  Cut," 
who,  in  fact,  was  avoiding  him.  At  last  they  accidentally 
encountered.  "Cut,"  said  the  priest,  "I  ask  you  no  more. 
Go  now  your  path  of  crime.  I  have  done  my  best,  and  I 
leave  you  to  God.  You  are  a  coward  and  a  liar." 

Quinlan  jumped  with  a  spasm  of  passion,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  fire.  Curbing  himself,  however,  he  said,  ' '  No,  no, 
Father  Mullaly  ;  no.  You  never  were  more  wrong  in  your 
life.  I  am  neither  a  coward  nor  a  liar,  but  I  know  that  I'd 
be  bound  in  confession  to  give  up  shooting  bad  landlords, 
and  that  I  never  will :  so  good-by." 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  151 

Father  Mullaly  saw  " Cut"  no  more.  But  as  long  as  the 
fox  runs  he  is  trapped  at  last.  Quinlan  was  caught  almost 
red-handed  in  a  murderous  attack,  and  was  tried  for  it  at 
Clonmel  assizes.  He  wrote  to  Chatham,  where  his  former 
regiment  was  now  stationed,  and  told  a  piteous  tale  of  inno- 
cence to  his  captain,  beseeching  him  by  the  memory  of  cer- 
tain past  sendees  to  come  over  to  Clonmel  and  "  speak  for 
him  "  in  court.  According  to  my  informants,  who  were,  I 
believe,  present  on  the  occasion  when  the  trial  came  on, 
"  Cut"  paid  little  attention  to  the  proceedings,  but  from  time 
to  time  swept  the  audience  with  anxious  eye.  As  the  case 
was  concluding,  Quinlan's  former  captain  hurriedly  entered 
and  took  a  seat  in  the  grand  jury  box.  "My  lord,"  said  the 
prisoner,  "  I  have  one  witness.  Hear  his  story,  and  say  am 
I  likely  to  be  the  man  whom  these  other  people  think  they 
can  identify  as  a  murderer. "  The  officer  was  sworn,  and  told 
of  "  Cut "  what  I  have  already  mentioned, — his  exemplary 
conduct,  his  steadiness,  his  undaunted  bravery.  "  Most  of 
the  time  he  was  my  own  servant,"  he  continued,  "  and  a  truer 
soldier  never  lived.  My  lord,  I  owe  my  life  to  his  fidelity 
and  heroism.  On  the  day  of  Sobraon,  when  shot  and  shell 
flew  like  hail,  I  fell  amidst  a  heap  of  our  brave  fellows  torn 
by  the  enemy's  fire.  When  no  man  of  ordinary  courage  would 
face  that  storm  of  death,  this  faithful  fellow  rushed  in,  care- 
less of  his  life,  found  me  where  I  lay,  and  bore  me  in  his 
arms  from  the  field.  Thank  God  I  am  here  to-day,  I  hope 
to  save  his  life.  He  would  be  incapable  of  the  crime  laid  to 
his  charge." 

Alas  for  the  inconsistencies  of  human  nature,— of  Tip- 
perary human  nature,  at  all  events !  The  jury  knew  "  Cut" 
better  and  longer  than  the  captain  did.  The  evidence  satis- 
fied them  of  his  guilt,  and  they  were  otherwise  aware  of  hia 
desperate  career.  They  found  him  guilty  of  manslaughter, 
and  he  was  transported  for  life  beyond  the  seas. 

Here,  surely,  was  a  strange  amalgam.  Up  to  the  day  of 
his  eviction  this  man  had  lived  the  ordinary  uneventful  life  of 


152  NEW  IRELAND. 

a  peasant.  From  that  hour  forth  he  seemed,  like  the  char- 
actor  in  Sue's  story,  "  to  see  blood."  He  would  dare  almost 
inevitable  death  to  save  his  English  master.  He  would  refuse 
every  entreaty  of  his  religious  pastor  and  lifetime  friend  im- 
ploring him  to  turn  from  a  course  of  merciless  vengeance  and 
revolting  crime. 

It  must  be  said  that  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice  in  these  cases  partook  very  often  of  the 
rough-and-ready  style.  The  evil  idea  of  "  striking  terror," 
and  the  practice  of  relying  too  largely  on  the  evidence  of  "  ap- 
provers,"— often  perjured  villains  who  had  been  themselves 
the  real  criminals, — led  betimes  to  the  worst  results.  One 
cannot  spend  a  night  amidst  the  fireside  group  in  a  Tipperary 
farm-house,  as  I  have  frequently  done,  without  hearing  stories 
of  men  hanged  for  offenses  of  which  they  were  wholly  inno- 
cent, the  identification  being  stupidly  wrong  ;  the  peasantry 
will  tell  you  it  was  willfully  false.  I  was  inclined  to  think 
there  might  be  some  proclivity  to  such  an  impression  on  the 
part  of  the  population;  but  I  am  bound  to  say  evidence 
irrefragable  convinced  me  that  justice  blundered  sadly  in 
some  of  those  displays  of  precipitancy  and  passion,  miscalled 
salutary  vigor. 

Agrarian  crime  has  not  totally  disappeared.  Evils  so 
deep-rooted  are  not  soon  or  easily  expelled.  Ever  and  anon 
even  still  we  are  startled  and  horrified  by  some  incident  re- 
minding us  of  gloomy  days  we  had  fondly  hoped  were  gone 
forever.  But  a  thousand  signs  proclaim  that  though  in 
Ireland,  as  in  England  and  in  every  country,  crime  in  various 
shapes  will  last,  in  some  degree,  as  long  as  human  passion, 
yet  agrarian  outrages  as  we  used  to  know  them  formerly — 
ghastly  campaigns  in  a  sort  of  civil  war — will  soon  belong 
entirely  to  the  past  of  Irish  history.  How  the  system  which 
produced  them  received  its  death-blow  is  a  story  that  will 
come  in  its  proper  place.  But  it  is  the  sad  fact  that  thirty 
years  ago  Ireland  passed  through  some  of  the  most  terrible 
episodes  of  that  dismal  struggle. 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  153 

Two  things  astonish  most  persons  who,  from  a  distance, 
contemplate  agrarian  crime  in  Ireland.  The  first  is  the  neg- 
ative or  positive  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  rural  population 
that  appears  to  surround  the  criminals  ;  or,  at  all  events,  the 
absence  of  any  co-operation  with  the  law  in  its  pursuit  of 
them.  The  second  is  a  fact  I  have  glanced  at  in  the  case  of 
Tipperary,  namely,  that  a  district  the  scene  of  such  violence 
is  at  other  intervals  and  in  other  respects  peaceable,  orderly, 
and  law-abiding.  In  the  course  of  many  years'  observation, 
I  satisfied  myself  those  outrages — I  do  not  speak  of  isolated 
acts  of  agrarian  crime,  but  of  those  tempests  that,  for  a  time, 
raged  in  particular  districts — had  a  sort  of  class  history; 
certain  features  or  characteristics ;  certain  originating  causes 
that  might  be  discerned  more  or  less  in  all  of  them.  Not 
in  every  particular  case,  certainly,  but  in  most  of  them, 
study  reveals  something  like  this  movement  in  a  vicious 
circle. 

A  district  formerly  disturbed  has  been  peaceable  for  some 
time.  Landlord  and  tenant  have  got  along  very  fairly  in  a 
sort  of  truce,  armed  or  unarmed,  negatively  hostile  or  posi- 
tively friendly.  After  a  while  some  agent  less  considerate 
than  those  around  him  conceives  an  "improvement,"  an  in- 
crease of  rent,  a  few  new  "  rules  of  the  estate,"  a  batch  of  evic- 
tions on  the  title.  In  the  general  quietude  the  thing  may  be 
done  without  much  noise  or  resistance,  and  he  succeeds.  His 
example  is  followed  and  extended.  Other  agents  or  landlords 
go  on  pushing  to  its  utmost  limits  technical  legal  right  aa 
opposed  to  actual  equity.  Some  one,  more  reckless  than  all 
the  rest,  leads  the  way.  He  intimates  that  he  knows  how  to 
deal  with  these  people.  "Firmness,"  he  says,  will  do  it  all, 
and  he  ostentatiously  carries  revolvers  in  his  coat-pocket.  A 
sullen,  gloomy  calm,  which  every  one  accustomed  to  Irish 
life  well  knows  to  be  the  herald  of  a  storm,  seems  to  assure 
him  of  immunity.  He  is  fired  at,  but  happily  escapes. 
Now  he  "must  make  an  example."  He  will  not  be  cowed 
by  would-be  assassins.  Out  the  threatened  tenants  must  go. 
7* 


154  NEW  IRELAND.  • 

One  day  the  news  flashes  through  the  country  that  this  gen- 
tleman has  been  shot  dead  under  circumstances  of  great  bru- 
tality. A  shudder  of  horror  goes  through  one  section  of  the 
community.  A  shout  of  joy  or  a  muttered  exclamation  of 
approval*  is  sent  forth  by  another.  One  portion  of  the  press 
devotes  itself  to  invectives  against  the  murderers  and  their 
sympathizers;  another  to  denunciations  of  the  conduct  on 
the  victim's  part  out  of  which  this  tragedy  arose.  Every 
threatened  tenant  in  the  locality  and  throughout  the  country 
sees  in  the  assassin  an  avenger.  The  blow  he  has  struck  is  a 
deterrent  that  will  save  hundreds.  The  police  are  refused 
all  assistance  in  efforts  to  capture  him ;  and  sheltered  by  the 
people,  he  escapes. 

It  is  at  this  point  all  the  harm,  all  the  wof  ul  moral  rot  and 
social  disruption,  commence.  It  is  just  here  all  the  mischief 
which  arises  from  an  antithesis  of  law  and  justice  sets  in. 
Emboldened  by  the  escape  of  this  assassin,  or  encouraged  by 
the  sympathy  manifested  for  his  guilty  deed,  some  wretch 
with  far  less  cause  of  complaint  than  he  had,  and  who  but 
for  this  example  of  murder  would  have  shrunk  from  such  an 
act,  now  strikes  at  some  other  life.  Another  and  another 
follow,  on  slighter  and  slighter  provocation,  as  the  moral 
atmosphere  becomes  more  and  more  tainted  by  what  has  gone 
before,  until,  eventually,  every  cowardly  miscreant  who  has  a 
personal  grudge  to  satiate  swells  the  list  of  atrocities,  and 
crimes  are  multiplied  which  disgust  and  affright  even  those 

*A  near  relative  of  a  young  friend  of  mine  owns  a  shop  for  the  sale 
of  general  merchandise  in  a  large  town  in  the  county  Mayo.  One 
market-day  the  shop  was  unusually  full  of  country  people,  when  sud- 
denly some  strange  stir  was  noticed  among  them.  Every  man  in  the 
throng  was  observed,  one  by  one,  to  lift  his  hat,  and  heard  to  ejaculate 
in  a  low  voice,  quite  reverentially,  "  Glory  be  to  God  1 "  "  What  has 
happened  ?  what  are  you  all  praying  for  ?  "  said  the  proprietress  to  one 
of  them.  "  Oh  !  glory  be  to  God,  ma'am,  did  you  not  hear  the  news  ?  " 
he  replied  :  "  the  greatest  tyrant  in  the  county  Mayo  was  shot  this 
morning!" 


THE  CRIMSON  8TAW.  155 

who  hailed  the  first  shot  with  a  fatal  approval.  At  length 
the  hangman's  work  is  found  to  be  in  accord  with  the  popu- 
lar conscience.  The  landlords  and  agents  have  fought  the 
fight  of  their  class  unflinchingly ;  but  they  heartily  wish  the 
storm  had  never  been  raised.  The  farmers  contend  that 
the  first  case  was  one  of  frightful  provocation,  but  agree 
that  the  thing  has  led  to  bad  work  all  around.  Both  sides 
now  have  had  enough  of  it.  The  shootings  and  the  hangings 
die  out,  and  for  another  period  of  years  there  is  peace  and 
tranquillity  in  the  district. 

I  have  seen  all  this,  again  and  again,  pass  before  my  eyes. 
Of  course  the  programme  was  not,  in  every  particular,  the 
same  in  every  case ;  occasionally  a  murder  for  which  the 
human  mind  could  conceive  no  palliation  began  the  accursed 
business ;  but  in  what  may  be  called  the  more  serious  out- 
bursts of  agrarian  violence  the  general  course  of  the  dismal 
story  was  very  much  as  I  have  described  it.  As  a  rule,  the 
first  tragedy  was  one  which  had  some  terrible  provocation 
behind  it.  As  a  rule,  the  latter  outrages  were  the  very 
wantonness  of  ruffianism  and  crime. 

I  know  of  no  Irish  topic  on  which  candid,  truthful,  and 
independent  writing  and  speaking  are  more  rare  than  this  of 
agrarian  crime.  The  outrages  in  many  cases  were  so  fearful 
that  no  one  durst  speak  a  word  as  to  their  having  had  some 
cause,  without  exposing  himself  to  a  charge  of  palliating  or 
sympathizing  with  them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  provoca- 
tion often  was  so  monstrous  that  if  one  execrated  the  crime 
as  it  deserved  to  be,  he  was  supposed  to  be  callously  indif- 
ferent to  the  avidity,  the  greed,  the  heartlessness  that  led  up 
to  it.  Thus,  thirty  years  ago,  nay  twenty  years  ago,  or  less, 
the  creation  of  a  healthy  public  opinion  on  the  subject  was 
impossible.  "We  stood  arrayed,  one  and  all  of  us,  in  one  or 
other  of  two  hostile  camps  :  that  of  the  landlords,  in  appar- 
ent approval  of  merciless  evictions ;  or  that  of  the  tenants, 
in  apparent  sympathy  with  red-handed  murder.  Yet  occa- 
sionally on  both  sides  there  must  have  been  many  a  good 


156  NEW  IRELAND. 

man,  many  a  true  patriot,  who  in  his  secret  heart  bewailed 
the  terrible  state  of  things  that  thus  convulsed  and  affrighted 
society,  and  who  yearned  for  the  day  when  the  page  of 
Ireland's  story  would  be  blotted  no  more  by  this  crimson 
stain. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

"  LOCHABEE  NO   MOKE  ! " 

.A  HIGHLAND  friend,  whose  people  were  swept  away  by  the 
great  "  Sutherland  Clearances,"  describing  to  me  some  of  the 
scenes  in  that  great  dispersion,  often  dwelt  with  emotion  on 
the  spectacle  of  the  evicted  clansmen  marching  through  the 
glens  on  their  way  to  exile,  their  pipers  playing,  as  a  last 
farewell,  "Lochaber  no  more  I" 

"  Lochaber  no  more  !  Lochaber  no  more  ! 
We'll  may -be  return  to  Lochaber  no  more  I " 

I  sympathized  with  his  story ;  I  shared  all  his  feelings.  I 
had  seen  my  own  countrymen  march  in  like  sorrowful  pro- 
cession on  their  way  to  the  emigrant-ship.  Not  alone  in  one 
district,  however,  but  all  over  the  island,  were  such  scenes  to 
be  witnessed  in  Ireland  from  1847  to  1857.  Within  that 
decade  of  years  nearly  a  million  of  people  were  "cleared" 
off  the  island  by  eviction  and  emigration. 

A  bitter  memory  is  held  in  Ireland  of  the  "Famine  Clear- 
ances," as  they  are  called.  There  was  much  in  them  that  was 
heartless  and  deplorable,  much  also  that  was  unfortunately 
unavoidable.  Three  years  of  dreadful  privation  had  annihi- 
lated the  resources  of  the  agricultural  population.  In  1848, 
throughout  whole  districts,  the  tenant-farmers — the  weak  and 
wasted  few  who  survived  hunger  and  plague — were  without 
means  to  till  the  soil.  The  exhaustion  of  the  tenant  class 
involved,  in  numerous  cases,  the  ruin  of  the  landlords.  A 
tenantry  unable  to  crop  the  land  were  of  course  unable  to 
pay  a  rent.  Many  of  them,  so  far  from  being  in  a  position 

157 


158  NEW  IRELAND. 

to  pay,  rather  required  the  landlord's  assistance  to  enable 
them  to  live. 

Apart  from  all  question  as  to  the  disposition  of  the  Irish 
landlords  to  yield  such  aid,  it  is  the  indubitable  fact  that, 
as  a  class,  they  were  utterly  unable  to  afford  it.  Some  of 
them  nearly  extinguished  their  own  interests  in  their  estates 
by  borrowing  money  in  1848,  1849,  and  1850,  to  pull  the 
tenants  through. 

Too  many  of  the  Irish  landlords  acted  differently  ;  and  for 
the  course  they  adopted  they  were  not  the  only  persons  to 
blame.  The  English  press  at  this  juncture  embraced  the 
idea  that  the  Irish  Famine,  if  properly  availed  of,  would 
prove  a  great  blessing.  Providence,  it  was  declared,  had 
sent  this  valuable  opportunity  for  settling  the  vexed  question 
of  Irish  misery  and  discontent.  Nothing  could  have  been 
done  with  the  wretched  population  that  had  hitherto  squatted 
on  the  land.  They  were  too  poor  to  expend  any  capital  in 
developing  the  resources  of  the  soil.  They  were  too  ignor- 
ant to  farm  it  scientifically.  Besides,  they  were  too  numer- 
ous. Why  incur  ruinous  expense  to  save  or  continue  a  class 
of  landholders  so  undesirable  and  injurious  ?  Bather  be- 
hold in  what  has  happened  an  indication  of  the  design  of 
Providence.  Ireland  needs  to  be  colonized  with  thrifty 
Scotch  and  scientific  English  farmers  ;  men  with  means ; 
men  with  modern  ideas. 

Thus  pleaded  and  urged  a  thousand  voices  on  the  English 
shore ;  and  to  impecunious  Irish  landlords  the  suggestion 
seemed  a  heavenly  revelation.  English  tenants  paid  higher 
rents  than  Irish,  and  paid  them  punctually.  English  "  colo- 
nists "  would  so  farm  the  land  as  to  increase  its  worth  four- 
fold. English  farmers  had  a  proper  idea  of  land-tenure, 
and  would  quit  their  holdings  on  demand.  No  more  worry 
with  half-pauperized  and  discontented  fellows  always  behind 
with  their  rent,  always  wanting  a  reduction,  and  never 
willing  to  pay  an  increase  !  No  more  annoyance  from  tenant- 
right  agitators  and  seditious  newspapers  ;  no  more  dread  of 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  159 

Eibbonite  mandates  and  Kockite  warnings  !  Blessed  hour  ! 
El  Dorado  was  in  sight ! 

To  men  circumstanced  as  the  Irish  landlords  were  in  1848, 
these  allurements  were  sure  to  prove  irresistible.  They 
formed  the  theme  and  substance  of  essay,  speech,  and  lec- 
ture in  England  at  the  time.  Some  writers  put  the  matter 
a  little  kindly  for  the  Irish,  and  regretted  that  the  regenera- 
tion of  the  country  had  to  be  accomplished  at  a  price  so 
painful.  Others,  unhappily,  made  no  secret  of  their  joy 
and  exultation.  Here  was  the  opportunity  to  make  an  end 
of  the  Irish  difficulty.  The  famine  had  providentially  cleared 
the  way  for  a  great  and  grand  work,  if  England  was  but 
equal  to  the  occasion.  Now  was  the  time  to  plant  Ireland 
with  a  British  population. 

One  now  can  afford  to  doubt  that  the  men  who  spoke  and 
wrote  in  this  way  ever  weighed  the  effect  and  consequences 
of  such  language  on  a  people  like  the  Irish.  I  recall  it  in  a 
purely  historical  spirit,  to  identify  it  as  the  first  visible 
origin  and  cause  of  a  state  of  things  which  disagreeably 
challenges  English  attention, — the  desperate  bitterness,  the 
deadly  hatred  of  England,  which  the  emigrant  thousands 
carried  with  them  from  Ireland  to  America,  To  many  an 
Englishman  that  hostile  spirit  must  seem  almost  inexpli- 
cable. "  If  Irishmen  have  had  to  emigrate,"  they  say,  "  it 
was  for  their  own  good  and  advantage :  why  should  they 
hate  England  for  that  ?  Englishmen  also  emigrate  in  thou- 
sands every  day."  There  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon  the  pain- 
ful circumstances  that  distinguish  the  Irish  exodus  from  the 
adventurous  emigration  of  Germans  or  Swedes  or  English- 
men. The  Irishman  who  comes  to  tell  the  story  of  these 
famine-evictions,  and  the  emigration-panic  which  followed, 
finds  himself,  in  truth,  face  to  face  with  the  origin  of  Irish- 
American  Fenianism. 

It  may  be  that,  even  if  the  tempting  idea  of  "coloniza- 
tion" had  never  affected  their  minds,  a  certain  section  of  the 
Irish  landlords  would  have  had  to  pursue,  in  a  greater  or  less 


160  NEW  IRELAND. 

degree,  the  course  they  followed.  What  were  they  to  do  ? 
Penniless  lords  of  penniless  tenants,  it  seemed  a  miserable 
necessity  that  they  should  sacrifice  the  latter ;  as  one  drown- 
ing man  drives  another  from  a  plank  insufficient  to  support 
them  both.  Be  this  as  it  may,  in  the  track  of  the  Irish 
Famine  came  such  wholesale  "  clearances  "  as  never  had  been 
known  in  the  history  of  land-tenure.  Of  course  no  rents 
had  been  paid — because  none  could  be  paid — by  a  great  part 
of  the  Irish  tenantry  during  the  famine-years,  and  the  hold- 
ings were  technically  forfeited  to  the  landlords  for  "  non- 
payment of  rent."  At  a  later  stage,  even  in  cases  where  no 
rent  was  due,  evictions  were  carried  out  all  the  same,  to 
"  clear"  the  land  and  change  the  farms  to  sheep-walks  and 
bullock-ranges.  The  quarter-sessions  courts  now  presented 
a  strange  spectacle.  The  business  of  these  tribunals  swelled 
to  enormous  dimensions,  from  two  classes  of  cases,  actions 
against  farmers  for  meal,  seed-corn,  and  cash  lent,  and  eject- 
ment processes.  I  have  seen  the  latter  literally  in  piles  or 
sheaves  on  the  desk  before  the  clerk,  and  listened  for  hours 
to  the  dull  monotony  of  "  calling  "  and  "  marking  "  the  cases. 
No  defenses  were  attempted ;  none  could  be  maintained. 

Then  came  the  really  painful  stage  of  the  proceedings, — 
the  evictions. 

With  the  English  farmer,  as  a  rule,  the  termination  of  his 
tenancy  is,  I  believe,  little  more  inconvenient  or  distressing 
than  the  ordinary  "  Michaelmas  flitting"  of  a  town  resident 
from  one  house  to  another.  He  has  hired  the  use  of  a  farm 
with  all  its  appurtenances,  fixtures,  and  conveniences,  fur- 
nished in  good  order  by  the  landlord,  just  as  one  might 
engage  a  fishing-boat  by  the  week  or  by  the  day,  or  rent  a 
shooting,  with  cosy  box  or  mountain-lodge,  for  a  season. 
Very  far  different  is  the  case  with  the  Irish  tenant.  As  a 
rule,  his  farm  has  been  to  him  and  his  forefathers  for  genera- 
tions a  fixed  and  cherished  home.  Every  bush  and  brake, 
every  shrub  and  tree,  every  meadow-path  or  grassy  knoll,  has 
some  association  for  him  which  is,  as  it  were,  a  part  of  his 


"LOCEABER  NO  MORE!"  161 

existence.  Whatever  there  is  on  or  above  the  surface  of  the 
earth  in  the  shape  of  house  or  office  or  steading,  of  fence  or 
road,  or  gate  or  stile,  has  been  created  by  the  tenant's  hand. 
Under  this  humble  thatch  roof  he  first  drew  breath,  and  has 
grown  to  manhood.  Hither  he  brought  the  fair  young  girl 
he  won  as  wife.  Here  have  his  little  children  been  born. 
This  farm-plot  is  his  whole  dominion,  his  world,  his  all :  he 
is  verily  a  part  of  it,  like  the  ash  or  the  oak  that  has  sprung 
from  its  soil.  Removal  in  his  case  is  a  tearing  up  by  the 
roots,  where  transplantation  is  death.  The  attachment  of 
the  Irish  peasant  to  his  farm  is  something  almost  impossible 
to  be  comprehended  by  those  who  have  not  spent  their  lives 
among  the  class  and  seen  from  day  to  day  the  depth  and 
force  and  intensity  of  these  home  feelings. 

An  Irish  eviction,  therefore,  it  may  well  be  supposed,  is  a 
scene  to  try  the  sternest  nature.  I  know  sheriffs  and  sub- 
sheriffs  who  have  protested  to  me  that  odious  and  distressing 
as  were  the  duties  they  had  to  perform  at  an  execution  on  the 
public  scaffold,  far  more  painful  to  their  feelings  were  those 
which  fell  to  their  lot  in  carrying  out  an  eviction,  where,  as  in 
the  case  of  these  "  clearances,"  the  houses  had  to  be  leveled. 
The  anger  of  the  elements  affords  no  warrant  for  respite  or 
reprieve.  In  hail  or  thunder,  rain  or  snow,  out  the  inmate 
must  go.  The  bedridden  grandsire,  the  infant  in  the  cradle, 
the  sick,  the  aged,  and  the  dying,  must  alike  be  thrust  forth, 
though  other  roof  or  home  the  world  has  naught  for  them,  and 
the  stormy  sky  must  be  their  canopy  during  the  night  at  hand. 
This  is  no  fancy  picture.  It  is  but  a  brief  and  simple  outline 
sketch  of  realities  witnessed  all  over  Ireland  in  the  ten  years 
that  followed  the  famine.  I  recall  the  words  of  an  eye- 
witness, describing  one  of  these  scenes:  "Seven  hundred 
human  beings,"  says  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Nulty,  Catholic 
Bishop  of  Meath,  "  were  driven  from  their  homes  on  this  one 
day.  There  was  not  a  shilling  of  rent  due  on  the  estate  at 
the  time,  except  by  one  man.  The  sheriffs'  assistants  em- 
ployed on  the  occasion  to  extinguish  the  hearths  and  demolish 


162  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  homes  of  those  honest,  industrious  men  worked  away 
with  a  will  at  their  awful  calling  until  evening  fell.  At 
length  an  incident  occurred  that  varied  the  monotony  of  the 
grim  and  ghastly  ruin  which  they  were  spreading  all  around. 
They  stopped  suddenly  and  recoiled,  panic-stricken  with  ter- 
ror, from  two  dwellings  which  they  were  directed  to  destroy 
with  the  rest.  They  had  just  learned  that  typhus  fever  held 
these  houses  in  its  grasp,  and  had  already  brought  death  to 
some  of  their  inmates.  They  therefore  supplicated  the  agent 
to  spare  these  houses  a  little  longer  ;  but  he  was  inexorable, 
and  insisted  that  they  should  come  down.  He  ordered  a 
large  winnowing-sheet  to  be  secured  over  the  beds  in  which 
the  fever-victims  lay, — fortunately  they  happened  to  be  deliri- 
ous at  the  time, — and  then  directed  the  houses  to  be  unroofed 
cautiously  and  slowly.  I  administered  the  last  sacrament  of 
the  Church  to  four  of  these  fever-victims  next  day,  and,  save 
the  above-mentioned  winnowing-sheet,  there  was  not  then  a 
roof  nearer  to  me  than  the  canopy  of  heaven.  The  scene  of 
that  eviction-day  I  must  remember  all  my  life  long.  The 
wailing  of  women,  the  screams,  the  terror,  the  consternation 
of  children,  the  speechless  agony  of  men,  wrung  tears  of 
grief  from  all  who  saw  them.  I  saw  the  officers  and  men  of 
a  large  police  force  who  were  obliged  to  attend  on  the  occa- 
sion cry  like  children.  The  heavy  rains  that  usually  attend 
the  autumnal  equinoxes  descended  in  cold  copious  torrents 
throughout  the  night,  and  at  once  revealed  to  the  houseless 
sufferers  the  awful  realities  of  their  condition.  I  visited 
them  next  morning,  and  rode  from  place  to  place  administer- 
ing to  them  all  the  comfort  and  consolation  I  could.  The 
landed  proprietors  in  a  circle  all  round,  and  for  many  miles 
in  every  direction,  warned  their  tenantry  against  admitting 
them  to  even  a  single  night's  shelter.  Many  of  these  poor 
people  were  unable  to  emigrate.  After  battling  in  vain  with 
privation  and  pestilence,  they  at  last  graduated  from  the  work- 
house to  the  tomb,  and  in  little  more  than  three  years  nearly 
a  fourth  of  them  lay  quietly  in  their  graves." 


"LOCHABER  NO  MOEEI"  163 

To  snch  an  extent  wag  this  demolition  of  houses  carried,* 
that  a  certain  kind  of  skill  was  acquired  in  the  work ;  and 
gangs  of  men  accustomed  so  to  wield  pick  and  crowbar 
became  a  special  feature  for  the  time  in  the  labor  market. 
After  a  while  the  whole  posse — sheriff,  sub-sheriff,  agent, 
bailiffs,  and  attendant  policemen — came  to  be  designated  the 
"Crowbar  Brigade,"  a  name  of  evil  memory,  at  mention  of 
which  to  this  day  many  a  peasant's  heart  will  chill  in  Ire- 
land. 

Soon,  indeed,  hand-labor  became  too  slow  in  the  work  of 
house-leveling,  and  accordingly  scientific  improvement  and 
mechanical  ingenuity  were  called  in.  To  Mr.  Scully,  a  Cath- 
olic landlord  in  Tipperary,  belongs  the  credit  of  inventing  a 
machine  for  the  cheaper  and  more  expeditious  unroofing  and 
demolishing  of  tenants'  homes.  I  never  saw  it  myself,  but 
friends  who  watched  the  invention  in  operation  described  it 
to  me.  It  consisted  of  massive  iron  levers,  hooks,  and  chains, 
to  which  horses  were  yoked.  By  deftly  fixing  the  hooks  and 
levers  at  the  proper  points  of  the  rafters,  at  one  crack  of  the 
whip  and  pull  of  the  horses  the  roof  was  brought  away.  By 
some  similarly  skillful  gripping  of  coigne-stones,  the  house- 
walls  were  torn  to  pieces.  It  was  found  that  two  of  these 
machines  enabled  a  sheriff  to  evict  ten  times  as  many  peasant 
families  in  a  day  as  could  be  got  through  by  a  crowbar  bri- 
gade of  fifty  men.  Mr.  Scully  took  no  special  advantage  of 
his  invention.  He  neither  registered  it  nor  patented  it,  but 
gave  it  freely  for  the  general  good  of  his  fellow-landlords.  I 
am  told  that  not  a  dozen  years  ago  it  was  seen  in  full  swing 
in  a  southern  county. 

But  even  in  ruin  and  desolation,  "home  " — the  home  that 
was — seemed  to  have  a  fascination  for  the  evicted  people. 
They  lingered  long  about  the  spot,  until  driven  away  by 

*  On  the  23d  of  March,  1848,  Mr.  Poulett  Scrope,  M.P.,  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  called  attention  to  the  grossly  illegal  way  in  which 
this  wholesale  leveling  of  tenants'  houses  was  being  carried  out  in  Ire- 
land,—the  evictions  being,  he  stated,  "  mostly  at  nightfall." 


1G4  NEW  IRELAND. 

force,  or  compelled  by  sheer  starvation  to  wander  off  into  the 
''wide,  wide  world."  They  threw  up  rude  tents  or  "sheel- 
ings "  by  the  roadside, — branches  of  trees  or  bits  of  plank 
snatched  from  the  debris  of  the  leveled  houses  being  laid 
against  the  hedge  or  fence,  and  covered  with  pieces  of  old 
sheets  or  with  fern-leaves  and  grass  sods.  In  such  poor  shel- 
ter the  children  and  the  women  crouched ;  the  men  slept 
under  the  sky.  A  friend  told  me  that  driving  through  Clare 
County  in  '49  he  passed  several  encampments  of  evicted  ten- 
ants thus  established  on  the  roadside.  He  said  there  must 
have  been  hundreds  of  men,  women,  and  children  in  all,  and 
that  they  seemed  to  have  been  in  these  huts  for  some  time. 
In  the  county  Mayo  these  wayside  camps  were  nearly  as 
numerous  as  in  Clare ;  but  in  the  former  county,  in  a  few 
instances  at  least,  neighboring  properties  eventually  afforded 
a  foothold  to  the  poor  outcasts  and  saved  them  from  the 
workhouse.  It  is  only  just  to  mention  that  harsh  and  heart- 
less as  the  fact  mentioned  by  Dr.  Nulty  must  sound  (the 
mandate  of  the  surrounding  landlords  forbidding  their  ten- 
ants to  house  or  shelter  the  evicted  ones),  it  had,  if  not  in 
that  particular  case,  in  others,  this  explanation  behind  it, — 
viz.,  that  where  holdings  were  already  small  enough  there 
was  no  room  for  subdividing ;  and  no  landlord  wished  to 
have  the  ruined  and  pauperized  population  of  other  town 
lands  fastened  as  a  possible  poor-law  burden  on  his  own. 

The  instances  were  not  numerous  in  which  any  such  asylum 
was  allowed,  and  the  vast  multitude — for  such  they  were  in 
the  aggregate — gradually  separated  into  two  classes.  All  who 
were  able  to  emigrate — that  is  to  say,  all  who  either  possessed, 
or  were  able  to  borrow  or  beg,  the  necessary  means — found 
their  way  to  Australia,  America,  or  Great  Britain.  Those 
who  could  not  command  even  the  few  pounds  that  the  passage 
to  England  would  cost,  made  for  the  nearest  town,  where  for 
a  while  they  eked  out  a  miserable  existence  as  day-laborers, 
soon  sunk  to  mendicancy,  and  eventually  disappeared  into 
the  workhouse,  never  to  lift  their  heads  or  own  a  home  again. 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  165 

The  departure  of  an  emigrant  cavalcade  was  a  saddening 
sight.  English  travelers  on  Irish  railways  have  sometimes 
been  startled  as  the  train  entered  a  provincial  station  to  hear  a 
loud  wail  burst  from  a  dense  throng  on  the  platform.  While 
the  porters  with  desperate  haste  are  trundling  into  the  lug- 
gage-van numerous  painted  deal  boxes,  a  wild  scene  of  leave- 
taking  is  proceeding.  It  is  an  emigrant  farewell.  The  emi- 
grants, weeping  bitterly,  kiss,  over  and  over,  every  neighbor 
and  friend,  man,  woman,  and  child,  who  has  come  to  see 
them  for  the  last  time.  But  the  keen  pang  is  where  some 
member  of  the  family  is  departing,  leaving  the  rest  to  be 
sent  for  by  him  or  her  out  of  the  first  earnings  in  exile.  The 
husband  goes,  trusting  the  wife  and  little  ones  to  some  rela- 
tive or  friend  till  he  can  pay  their  passage  out  from  the  other 
side.  Or  it  is  a  son  or  daughter  who  parts  from  the  old 
father  and  mother,  and  tells  them  they  shall  not  long  be  left 
behind.  A  deafening  wail  resounds  as  the  station-bell  gives 
the  signal  of  starting.  I  have  seen  gray-haired  peasants  so 
clutch  and  cling  to  the  departing  child  at  this  last  moment 
that  only  the  utmost  force  of  three  or  four  friends  could  tear 
them  asunder.  The  porters  have  to  use  some  violence  before 
the  train  moves  off,  the  crowd  so  presses  against  door  and 
window.  When  at  length  it  moves  away,  amidst  a  scene  of 
passionate  grief,  hundreds  run  along  the  fields  beside  the 
line  to  catch  yet  another  glimpse  of  the  friends  they  shall 
see  no  more.* 
Besides  or  between  the  landlords  who  at  every  sacrifice 

*  At  Cahirmore,  some  six  miles  west  of  Castletown  Bearhaven,  one 
day  in  June,  1847,  I  was  walking  along  the  fields  that  reach  the  cliff 
on  the  Atlantic  shore,  when  I  saw,  running  along  the  path  that  skirts 
the  edge,  a  young  peasant  sobbing,  and  waving  his  cap  to  a  ship  in  full 
sail  a  mile  off  the  land.  For  a  while  I  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand what  it  meant ;  but  on  inquiry  I  found  this  was  an  emigrant 
ship  that  had  just  sailed  from  Castletown,  and  his  sister  was  on  board. 
The  breeze  was  light,  and  the  vessel  made  little  way ;  and  the  poor 
fellow  had  run  along  the  shore  for  miles  to  wave  a  farewell,  on  chance 
that  his  sister  might  be  gazing  toward  home  1 


166  NEW  IRELAND. 

sustained  and  retained  their  tenantry,  and  those  who,  by 
choice  or  necessity,  abandoned  them  to  their  fate  or  flung 
them  on  the  world,  there  was  a  third  class,  who  adopted  a 
middle  course.  They  did  not  help  the  tenantry  to  weather 
the  storm  and  live  on  in  the  old  places,  but  they  assisted 
them  in  going  away, — gave  them  enough  money  to  pay  the 
passage-fare  to  the  American  or  English  shore.  The  charac- 
ter and  merits  of  this  transaction  were  very  mixed.  In  some 
cases  it  was  generous  conduct ;  in  others  it  was  a  hard  bar- 
gain, struck  in  the  hour  of  the  tenant's  helplessness.  Which 
feeling  preponderated  ?  Whether  the  landlord  blessed  his 
good  fortune  when,  for  so  small  a  price,  he  got  rid  of  ruined 
tenants  and  probable  poor-rate  burden  on  his  estate,  and  had 
free  possession  of  cleared  farms  besides,  or  whether  he  was  a 
man  who  honestly  and  sincerely  felt  that  he  was  doing  the 
best  for  them  and  for  himself, — that  they  could  never  pull 
through  at  home,  and  might  do  well  in  Australia  or  Amer- 
ica,— is  a  question  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  determine 
to  my  own  satisfaction.  Some  landlords,  no  doubt,  were 
swayed  by  one  class  of  consideration,  some  by  the  other. 
But  with  every  desire  to  take  the  brightest  view  of  this  "as- 
sisted emigration  "  proceeding,  and  to  presume  the  best  as  to 
motives,  I  could  see  that  hardly  any  of  these  landlords  ena- 
bled the  pauperized  fugitives  to  do  more  than  reach  the 
foreign  shore.  Not  one  of  them  seemed  to  consider  for  a 
moment  how  the  English  people  would  like  to  have  tens  of 
thousands  of  rude,  unsophisticated,  unskilled,  unlettered 
Irish  peasants  flung  penniless  on  the  quays  of  Liverpool  or 
the  docksides  of  London.  Not  one  of  them  seemed  to  care 
what  might  be  the  result  if  the  hundreds  of  thousands  who 
streamed  across  the  Atlantic  should  fail  to  find  employment 
the  day  they  landed  at  Boston  or  New  York.  Hundreds  of 
these  Irish  emigrants  crossed  the  Atlantic  with  barely  the 
tattered  clothes  on  their  back,  and  without  a  shilling  to  pur- 
chase even  one  day's  food  on  landing.  I  know  of  my  own 
knowledge  that  several  borrowed  the  seven  shillings  and  six- 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  167 

pence  that  took  them  as  deck-passengers  across  the  Channel 
to  England,  trusting  to  the  hazard  of  getting  something  to 
do  the  day,  nay,  the  hour,  they  landed  at  Bristol,  London, 
or  Liverpool,  if  they  were  not  to  go  without  bed  or  food 
their  first  night  on  English  soil. 

"Thanks  be  to  God,  they  have  fired  in  the  air  1 "  says  the 
Cork  waiter  to  the  English  visitor  in  one  of  Lever's  stories. 
Two  Irish  gentlemen  having  quarreled  in  the  hotel  coffee- 
room,  a  duel  with  pistols  was  arranged  to  come  off  on  the 
spot  there  and  then.  To  the  delight  of  their  friends,  how- 
ever, and  of  the  assembled  waiters,  napkin  on  arm,  they 
"fired  in  the  air,"  that  is,  through  the  ceiling,  and  nearly 
shot  the  Englishman  in  "No.  10  "  overhead.  Very  like  this 
"firing  in  the  air"  was  the  conduct  of  the  Irish  landlords 
who  sent  off  their  pauperized  tenantry  and  cottiers  to  Eng- 
land and  America.  "  Thanks  be  to  God,  they  are  gone  ! " 
was,  no  doubt,  the  happy  reflection  of  many  a  benevolent 
landlord  at  this  time.  But  gone  whither,  and  to  what  fate  ? 
Gone  from  possibly  burdening  or  inconveniencing  him  ;  but 
what  of  the  possible  burden  and  inconvenience  to  the  social 
systems  into  which  this  mass  of  strange  material  was  thus 
flung? 

Often  as  I  stood  and  watched  these  departing  groups  I 
tried  to  think  what  it  might  be  that  they  could  do  in 
"  the  land  they  were  going  to."  What  were  they  fit  for  ? 
Many  of  them  had  never  seen  a  town  of  ten  thousand  inhab- 
itants ;  and  in  a  large  city,  even  in  their  own  country,  they 
would  be  helpless  and  bewildered  as  a  flock  of  sheep  on  a 
busy  highway.  What  was  before  them  in  the  midst  of  Lon- 
don or  New  York  ?  What  impressions  would  they  create  in 
the  minds  of  a  strange  city  people  ?  What  species  of  skill, 
what  branch  of  industry,  did  they  bring  with  them,  to  com- 
mand employment  and  insure  a  welcome  ?  Few  of  them 
could  read  ;  some  of  them,  accustomed  to  speak  the  native 
Gaelic,  knew  little  of  the  English  tongue.  Their  rustic 
manners  would  expose  them  to  derision,  their  want  of  edu- 


168  NEW  IRELAND. 

cation  to  contempt,  on  the  part  of  those  who  would  not 
know,  or  pause  to  consider,  that  in  the  hapless  land  they  left 
the  schoolmaster  had  been  proscribed  by  law  for  two  hun- 
dred years.  Wofully  were  they  handicapped.  Nearly  every- 
thing was  against  them.  Their  past  ways  of  life,  so  far 
from  training  them  in  aught  for  these  new  circumstances,  in 
nearly  every  way  unfitted  them  for  the  change. 

I  speak  in  all  this  of  the  peasant  or  cottier  emigrants. 
Mingling  in  the  vast  throng  went  thousands,  no  doubt,  who, 
happily  for  them  as  it  afterward  proved,  possessed  educa- 
tion, skill,  and  occasionally  moderate  means  for  a  start  in 
life  on  the  other  side, — members  of  respectable  and  once 
prosperous  families  that  had  been  ruined  in  the  famine-time. 
Nay,  there  sailed  in  the  steerage  of  the  emigrant-ships  many 
a  fair  young  girl,  going  to  face  a  servant's  lot  in  a  foreign 
land,  who  at  home  had  once  had  servants  to  attend  her 
every  want ;  and  many  a  fine  young  fellow  ready  to  engage 
as  groom,  who  learned  that  business,  so  to  speak,  as  a  gentle- 
man's son  in  the  hunting-field.  In  the  cities  and  towns  of 
Great  Britain  and  America  there  are  to-day  hundreds  of 
Irishmen,  some  having  risen  to  position  and  fortune,  others 
still  toiling  on  in  some  humble  sphere,  who  landed  on  the 
new  shore  friendless  and  forlorn  from  the  wreck  of  happy 
and  affluent  homes. 

But  as  to  the  vast  bulk  of  uncultured  peasants,  victims  of 
this  wholesale  expulsion,  their  fate  was  and  could  but  be  de- 
plorable. Landing  in  such  masses,  everything  around  them 
so  strange,  so  new,  and  sometimes  so  hostile,  they  inevitably 
herded  together,  making  a  distinct  colony  or  "quarter"  in 
the  city  where  they  settled.  Destitute  as  they  were,  their 
necessities  drove  them  to  the  lowest  and  most  squalid  lanes 
and  alleys  of  the  big  towns.  At  home  in  their  native  valleys 
poverty  was  free  from  horrors  that  mingled  with  it  here, 
namely,  contact  with  debasing  city  crime.  The  children  of 
these  wretched  emigrants  grew  up  amidst  terrible  contami- 
nations. The  police-court  records  soon  began  to  show  an 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  169 

array  of  Celtic  patronymics.  "  The  low  Irish"  grew  to  be  a 
phrase  of  scorn  in  the  community  around  them  ;  and  they, 
repaying  scorn  with  hatred,  became,  as  it  were,  the  Arabs  of 
the  place,  "  their  hand  against  every  man's  hand,  and  every 
man's  hand  against  them." 

This  dismal  picture,  painfully  true  of  many  a  case  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  ago,  is  now  happily  rare.  A  brighter  and 
better  state  of  things  is  rapidly  making  its  appearance.  But, 
for  my  own  part,  I  can  never  forget  the  mournful  impres- 
sions made  upon  me  more  than  twenty  years  ago  when  inves- 
tigating the  condition  of  the  laboring  Irish  in  Staffordshire 
and  in  Lancashire,  in  Boston  and  in  New  York.  I  knew 
that  these  poor  countrymen  of  mine  were  of  better  and  no- 
bler material  than  the  strangers  around  them  imagined  ; 
that  they  were  the  victims  of  circumstances.  I  saw  and  I 
deplored  their  vices  and  their  failings  ;  saw  that  their  native 
Irish  virtues,  their  simple,  kindly,  generous  nature,  had  al- 
most totally  disappeared  in  the  cruel  transplantation. 

The  Irish  exodus  had  one  awful  concomitant,  which  in  the 
Irish  memory  of  that  time  fills  nearly  as  large  a  space  as  the 
famine  itself.  The  people,  flying  from  fever-tainted  hovel 
and  workhouse,  carried  the  plague  with  them  on  board. 
Each  vessel  became  a  floating  charnel-house.  Day  by  day 
the  American  public  was  thrilled  by  the  ghastly  tale  of  ships 
arriving  off  the  harbors  reeking  with  typhus  and  cholera,  the 
track  they  had  followed  across  the  ocean  strewn  with  the 
corpses  flung  overboard  on  the  way.  Speaking  in  the  House 
of  Commons  on  the  llth  of  February,  1848,  Mr.  Labouchere 
referred  to  one  year's  havoc  on  board  the  ships  sailing 
to  Canada  and  New  Brunswick  alone  in  the  following 
words  : 

"Out  of  106,000  emigrants  who  during  the  last  twelve 
months  crossed  the  Atlantic  for  Canada  and  New  Bruns- 
wick, 6100  perished  on  the  voyage,  4100  on  their  arrival, 
5200  in  the  hospitals,  and  1900  in  the  towns  to  which  they 
repaired.  The  total  mortality  was  no  less  than  17  per  cent. 
8 


170  NEW  IRELAND. 

of  the  total  number  emigrating  to  those  places  ;  the  number 
of  deaths  being  17,300." 

In  all  the  great  ports  of  America  and  Canada,  huge  quar- 
antine hospitals  had  to  be  hastily  erected.  Into  these  every 
day  newly-arriving  plague-ships  poured  what  survived  of 
their  human  freight,  for  whom  room  was  as  rapidly  made  in 
those  wards  by  the  havoc  of  death.  Whole  families  disap- 
peared between  land  and  land,  as  sailors  say.  Frequently 
the  adults  were  swept  away,  the  children  alone  surviving.  It 
was  impossible  in  every  case  to  ascertain  the  names  of  the 
sufferers,  and  often  all  clue  to  identification  was  lost.  The 
public  authorities,  or  the  nobly  humane  organizations  that 
had  established  those  lazar-houses,  found  themselves  to- 
ward the  close  of  their  labors  in  charge  of  hundreds  of 
orphan  children,  of  whom  name  and  parentage  alike  were 
now  impossible  to  be  traced.  About  eight  years  ago  I  was 
waited  upon  in  Dublin  by  one  of  these  waifs,  now  a  man  of 
considerable  wealth  and  honorable  position.  He  had  come 
across  the  Atlantic  in  pursuit  of  a  purpose  to  which  he  is 
devoting  years  of  his  life, — an  endeavor  to  obtain  some  clue 
to  his  family,  who  perished  in  one  of  the  great  shore  hospi- 
tals in  1849.  Piously  he  treasures  a  few  pieces  of  a  red- 
painted  emigrant-box,  which  he  believes  belonged  to  his 
father.  Eagerly  he  travels  from  place  to  place  in  Clare 
and  Kerry  and  G-alway,  to  see  if  he  may  dig  from  the  tomb 
of  that  terrible  past  the  secret  lost  to  him,  I  fear,  for- 
ever! 

"  From  Grosse  Island,  the  great  charnel-house  of  victim- 
ized humanity  "  (says  the  Official  Eeport  of  the  Montreal 
Emigrant  Society  for  1847),  "up  to  Port  Sarnia,  and  all 
along  the  borders  of  our  magnificent  river  ;  upon  the  shores 
of  Lakes  Ontario  and  Erie, — wherever  the  tide  of  emigration 
has  extended,  are  to  be  found  the  final  resting-places  of  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  Erin  ;  one  unbroken  chain  of  graves, 
where  repose  fathers  and  mothers,  sisters  and  brothers,  in 
one  commingled  heap,  without  a  tear  bedewing  the  soil  or  a 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  171 

stone  marking  the  spot.  Twenty  thousand  and  upward 
have  thus  gone  down  to  their  graves." 

I  do  not  know  that  the  history  of  our  time  has  a  parallel 
for  this  Irish  exodus.  The  Germans,  to  be  sure,  have  emi- 
grated in  vast  numbers,  and,  like  the  Irish,  seem  to  form, 
distinct  communities  where  they  settle.  But  many  circum- 
stances distinguish  the  Irish  case  from  any  that  can  be  re- 
called. Other  emigrations  were,  more  or  less,  the  gradual 
and  steady  overflow  of  a  population  cheerfully  willing  to  go. 
This  was  the  forcible  expulsion  or  panic  rush  of  a  stricken 
people,  and  was  attended  by  frightful  scenes  of  suffering  and 
death.  Irishmen,  moreover,  feel  that  their  country  has  not 
had  a  chance  of  fair  play,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  in  a  state 
of  things  which  sent  out  into  the  world  the  one  section  of  the 
population  least  qualified  to  encounter  it,  and  the  one  sec- 
tion least  likely  to  impress  strangers  with  favorable  and  high 
ideas  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish.  At  this  present  hour  there 
are  English  men  and  women  who  think  all  Irishmen  wear 
"  caubeens,"  with  pipes  stuck  in  the  rim,  and  carrying  a 
reaping-hook  under  their  flannel  vest.  If  only  the  corre- 
sponding class  of  the  English  nation,  when  it  had  a  peasant 
class,  were  seen  by  foreign  peoples,  as  rude  a  conception 
might  be  formed  of  the  typical  Englishman. 

Yet  the  first  terrible  ordeal  over,  the  Irish  emigration  is 
beginning  to  bear  some  good  and  useful  fruit.  Disadvanta- 
geous as  was  their  start  in  the  race,  the  expatriated  Celts  are 
decidedly  pulling  up,  and  are  striding  well  to  the  front  in 
many  a  land.  They  are  acquiring  skill,  are  turning  to  good 
account  their  naturally  quick  intelligence.  In  some  places, 
unfortunately,  the  vices  engendered  of  ignorance  and  pov- 
erty still  drag  them  down  and  keep  them  low  ;  but  in  most 
instances  they  have  conquered  the  respect  and  secured  the 
kindly  regard  of  their  employers,  neighbors,  and  fellow- 
workmen.  The  sad  circumstances  under  which  the  great 
body  of  them  crossed  the  seas  have  indelibly  stamped  one 
remarkable  characteristic  on  the  Irish  emigrants  :  they  are  a 


172  NEW  IRELAND. 

distinct  people.  Like  the  children  of  Israel,  "by  the  waters 
of  Babylon  they  sit  down  and  weep  when  they  remember 
Sion."  In  joy  or  sorrow,  in  adversity  or  prosperity,  they 
always  have  a  corner  in  their  hearts  for  Ireland,  a  secretly- 
treasured  memory  of  that  railway  parting-scene,  or  of  the 
last  fond  look  they  turned  on  the  native  valley,  the  ruined 
cottage,  the  lonely  hawthorn-tree.  Often  in  their  dreams 
they  clasp  again  the  hands  they  wrung  that  day,  ere  they  set 
forth  for  an  eternal  exile,  to  behold  "  Lochaber  no  more." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE   ENCUMBERED   ESTATES  ACT. 


,  Kingston,  you  black-  whiskered,  good-natured 
fellow,  I  am  happy  to  see  you  in  this  friendly  country."  Such 
was  the  characteristic  salutation  that  broke  from  George  IV. 
as  he  stepped  on  the  Irish  shore  at  Howth  on  the  12th  of 
August,  1821,  and  recognized  among  the  crowd  assembled 
to  greet  him  the  frank,  genial,  and  warm-hearted  Earl  of 
Kingston. 

The  king  little  thought  that  day  that  the  "  black-  whis- 
kered, good-natured  "  nobleman  who  stood  before  him  — 
splendid  type  of  an  Irish  country  gentleman,  brave,  gener- 
ous, hospitable,  kindly  to  his  tenantry,  beloved  by  his  depend- 
ants —  was  fated  to  be  the  last  of  his  name  and  race  who  would 
tread  in  pride  the  ancestral  halls  of  Mitchelstown.  Yet  so 
it  was  to  be.  His  next  heir  was  to  see  the  ruin  of  that  noble 
house,  the  wreck  of  that  princely  fortune,  once  the  boast  of 
Southern  Ireland. 

The  traveler  from  Cork  to  Dublin,  as  he  nears  the  Lim- 
erick Junction,  sees  on  his  right  hand,  rising  boldly  from  a 
fertile  plain,  a  chain  of  lofty  mountains.  Even  when  viewed 
from  the  railway,  one  can  notice  that  they  are  pierced  by 
many  a  deep  gorge  and  picturesque  glen.  These  are  the 
Galtees,  one  of  the  noblest  mountain-groups  in  Ireland,  — 
perhaps  in  Europe. 

The  district  has  an  eventful  history.  Its  deep  fastnesses, 
its  trackless  hills,  its  winding  denies,  made  it  the  refuge  of 
the  native  Irish  when  vanquished  on  the  plains.  "  A  natural 
fortress  of  liberty,"  one  of  our  historians  calls  it.  The  Des- 

173 


174  NEW  IRELAND. 

mond  Geraldines — ipsis  Hibernicis  Hiberniores — were  its 
lords  throughout  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  The 
crumbling  walls  of  their  numerous  castle  strongholds  still 
form  notable  features  in  the  landscape  for  miles  around. 
Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  the  extensive  possessions  of 
this  branch  of  the  Fitzgeralds  passed  to  the  Fentons  of 
Mitchelstown,  one  of  whom  married  the  daughter  of  "  The 
White  Knight,"  Fitzgerald  of  Clongibbon.  Very  little  later 
on  the  sole  heiress  of  the  Fentons  married  John  King,  whose 
grandfather,  Sir  John  King,  had  obtained  from  Charles  II. 
considerable  estates  in  the  county  Roscommon.  He  was  the 
ancestor  of  the  "  black- whiskered,  good-natured  "  Lord  King- 
ston, and  of  Captain  E.  R.  King  Harman,  M.P.  for  Sligo 
(1877),  to  whom  these  Roscommon  estates  have  descended. 

South  and  west  of  the  Galtees  rise  the  mountains  of 
Knockmeldoun.  The  valley  between  is  one  of  the  loveliest 
in  all  Munster.  At  its  head  stands  Mitchelstown  Castle. 
From  my  boyhood  I  had  heard  of  the  magnificence  of  this 
mountain-palace  of  the  Kingston  family,  and  of  the  natural 
beauties  surrounding.  But  when  I  visited  the  place  in  1860 
the  events  I  am  about  to  narrate  had  befallen,  and  their 
princely  home  knew  the  Kingstons  no  more.  A  writer  in 
the  Daily  News,  nearly  ten  years  previously,  had  drawn  a 
picture  of  the  scene  full  of  feeling  and  fidelity,  some  portion 
of  which  I  shall  reproduce  in  preference  to  any  sketch  of  my 
own.  "From  afar  off,"  he  says,  "as  soon  as  the  traveler 
enters  the  beautiful  valley  which  bears  its  name,  the  towers 
and  battlements  of  Mitchelstown  are  distinguished,  rising 
above  the  surrounding  woods,  and  affording  an  idea  of  mag- 
nificence quite  uncommon  to  this  conntry.  With  a  liberality 
very  uncommon  in  Great  Britain,  the  gates  are  at  all  hours 
open  to  the  public.  It  is  said  that  nothing  delighted  Lord 
Kingston  so  much  as  to  see  people  enjoying  themselves  in  his 
demesne.  In  England  the  passage  of  a  vehicle  through  a 
park  would  be  considered  by  most  proprietors  an  annoying 
and  unwelcome  intrusion.  At  Mitchelstown  Lord  Kingston 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  175 

would  scarcely  permit  a  carriage  to  enter  without  rushing 
out  to  greet  its  occupants  and  to  invite  them  to  make  a  survey 
of  his  castle  and  its  grounds. 

"  In  harmony  with  the  feelings  of  the  noble  owner,  the 
drive  from  the  lodge-gates  to  the  entrance-portal  of  the  castle 
is  a  short  and  pleasant  one.  No  long  and  chilling  avenue 
affords  the  visitor  time  for  preparation.  A  lawn  and  pleas- 
ure-ground are  passed,  and  the  castle  stands  before  you  in  all 
its  princely  grandeur.  It  consists  of  a  pile  of  castellated 
buildings,  extensive  and  elegantly  proportioned,  and  built  of 
stone  of  the  purest  white,  quarried  from  the  hills  on  the  es- 
tate. Nothing  can  be  more  simple  in  arrangement  than  the 
interior  of  this  castle.  A  noble  flight  of  steps  leads  from  the 
entrance  door  into  a  gallery  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
length.  At  the  other  end  of  this  gallery  a  corresponding 
flight  of  marble  stairs  leads  to  the  upper  chambers.  The 
gallery  is  lighted  by  ranges  of  oriel  and  other  windows  to  the 
north.  On  the  south  are  fireplaces  of  Italian  marble,  with 
stoves  of  knightly  character  and  blazon,  designed  expressly  for 
the  castle.  Between  these  fireplaces  are  doors,  which  open 
into  the  suite  of  rooms  which  form  the  saloons  of  reception. 
Overhead  are  two  ranges  of  bedchambers,  sixty  principal  and 
twenty  inferior  bedrooms.  On  an  emergency  as  many  as  a 
hundred  persons  have,  without  difficulty,  been  accommodated 
with  chambers  in  the  mansion.  Concealed  by  a  shrubbery,  to 
the  south  of  the  building,  are  the  exterior  offices.  The  sta- 
bles of  the  Douglas,  made  famous  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  did 
not  boast  more  ample  accommodation.  Four-and-twenty 
steeds  may  here  be  kept  ready  for  war  or  chase.  The  gardens 
of  Mitchelstown  have  long  been  celebrated  ;  the  noble  earl 
himself  took  especial  pleasure  in  them.  It  is  indeed  a  re- 
markable sight  to  see  the  long  range  of  graperies  thrown 
open.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  festoons  of  grapes  are  pen- 
dent ;  some  are  of  rare  sorts.  The  black  Hamburg  grape  is 
brought  to  the  utmost  perfection  here,  and  there  is  one  vine 
which,  in  point  of  size,  both  of  vine  and  fruit,  is  said  to  rival 


176  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  famed  produce  of  the  vine  at  Hampton  Court.  There 
is  also  a  lodge  expressly  devoted  for  the  reception  of  picnic- 
parties,  who  from  time  immemorial  have  been  permitted  the 
free  range  of  all  the  grounds  and  gardens,  and  inspection  of 
the  castle  upon  application  at  the  door.  Many  a  family 
fault  and  failing  may  be  considered  amply  redeemed  by  this 
liberal  attention  to  the  stranger.  When  Englishmen  hear  of 
noblemen's  seats  which  there  is  a  difficulty  in  visiting,  they 
may  remember  the  case  of  Mitchelstown,  where  every  visitor 
of  whatever  station,  was  provided  for,  welcomed,  and  even 
invited  to  return." 

One  day,  however,  a  heavy  blow  fell  on  Mitchelstown 
Castle  and  its  generous-hearted  lord.  I  shall  let  the  same 
kindly  Englishman  tell  the  story,  although  he  was  misled,  as 
I  shall  show,  in  one  or  two  particulars  : 

"  The  present  proprietor  of  the  estate  was  distinguished 
for  his  hospitality.  It  would  have  been,  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, a  noble  trait  in  his  character.  Lord  Kingston 
did  that  which  the  wealthier  noblemen  of  England  are  far 
too  slow  to  do.  He  invited  to  Mitchelstown,  without  dis- 
tinction of  rank  or  title,  all  who  could  derive  enjoyment 
from  it.  'If  you  are  a  scholar,'  said  the  noble  lord,  'you 
shall  be  conducted  to  scenes  renowned  in  history ;  if  you  are 
a  lover  of  the  picturesque,  you  shall  have  a  room  command- 
ing a  dozen  prospects ;  if  you  are  a  sportsman,  the  horse  and 
hound  invite  you  to  follow  them  ;  or  there  are  hills  abound- 
ing with  grouse,  and  streams  alive  with  trout.  Bring  your 
gun,  your  rod,  your  pencil,  or  your  book,  you  shall  be 
equally  welcome  and  equally  gratified.  Come  and  visit  me 
at  Mitchelstown.' 

"It  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  hospitable  gatherings 
that  the  last  blow  was  struck  at  the  descendant  of  Clongib- 
bon.  A  cruel  blow  it  was,  and  deservedly  execrated  will  be 
the  man  who  struck  it.  It  was  a  Saturday  evening ;  a  hun- 
dred guests  were  preparing  for  the  dinner-table  at  Mitchels- 
town, after  the  sports  and  enjoyments  of  the  day.  At  this 


TEE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  177 

moment  there  rode  up  to  the  door  an  unexpected  visitor. 
He  was  an  attorney  of  the  neighborhood,  to  whose  hands 
Lord  Kingston  had  confided  the  direction  of  some  of  his 
affairs.  A  debt  for  the  costs  appertaining  to  these  proceed- 
ings had  been  met  by  a  bond,  upon  which  judgment  had 
been  entered  up.  The  bond  only  awaited  execution,  but 
there  was  no  apprehension  that  the  money  would  be  pressed 
for.  When  the  attorney  arrived,  he  was  welcomed  by  Lord 
Kingston  with  his  usual  hospitality.  He  accepted  an  invi- 
tation to  remain  the  night,  and  he  partook  of  the  hospitality 
of  the  castle  and  quaffed  its  wine  to  the  health  and  hap- 
piness of  his  host. 

"  On  the  following  morning,  when  Lord  Kingston  and  his 
party  were  about  to  repair  to  the  adjacent  church,  the  attor- 
ney excused  himself  on  the  plea  of  indisposition.  During 
the  absence  of  the  guests  he  was  observed  admiring  the  gran- 
deur of  the  rooms.  He  examined  the  furniture,  the  books, 
the  plate  upon  the  sideboards,  the  chandeliers  pendent  from 
the  ceilings.  Early  in  the  day  he  took  his  departure.  Lord 
Kingston  little  augured  what  would  follow  it. 

"A  day  or  two  after,  Lord  Kingston  was  visited  at 
Mitchelstown  by  a  gentleman  well  known  to  him,  who  re- 
quested the  favor  of  a  private  interview.  It  was  the  sheriff 
of  the  county.  He  came,  he  said,  on  a  most  unpleasant 
duty.  An  execution  had  been  issued  at  the  suit  of  the  at- 
torney, and  he  had  received  notice  to  put  it  in  immediate 
force,  together  with  particulars  of  furniture  and  other  arti- 
cles within  the  castle  on  which  levy  could  be  made,  and 
which  he  was  called  upon  to  seize.  The  sheriff  assured  Lord 
Kingston  the  execution  should  be  put  in  such  a  way  as  would 
give  him  least  annoyance.  The  officer,  he  said,  could  be 
treated  as  a  servant,  and  he  trusted  that  the  matter  would  be 
so  arranged  that  he  would  be  very  speedily  withdrawn. 

"  The  sheriff  then  withdrew  to  summon  the  officer,  whom, 
in  delicacy  to  Lord  Kingston,  he  had  left  without  the  bounds 
of  the    demesne.     Whilst  he  was  absent,   Lord  Kingston 
8* 


178  NEW  IRELAND. 

hastily  called  some  of  his  friends  together  and  consulted  with 
them.  Some  of  the  least  judicious  recommended  him  to  close 
the  doors.  The  noble  lord  was  ill-advised  enough  to  act  on 
this  suggestion.  The  castle-doors  were  barred,  and  the  earl 
and  such  of  the  party  as  remained  his  guests  determined  to 
stand  out  a  siege. 

"The  sheriff  had  behaved  in  the  spirit  of  a  gentleman,  and 
even  of  a  friend.  It  was  now  his  duty  to  act  as  administra- 
tor of  the  law.  He  closely  invested  the  castle  and  its  grounds, 
directing  his  officers  to  obtain  possession  in  any  way  they 
could.  For  nearly  a  fortnight  the  siege  continued.  During 
that  time  several  councils  of  war  were  called  within  the  build- 
ing. At  length  the  more  moderate  prevailed:  they  advised 
Lord  Kingston  to  surrender  at  discretion.  No  succor  was  at 
hand,  and  the  present  proceedings,  they  suggested,  would 
only  increase  the  irritation  which  these  proceedings  had  pro- 
duced on  both  sides.  It  was  accordingly  determined  to  ad- 
mi  t  the  officers.  Late  on  the  evening  of  that  day  Lord  Kingston 
drove  away  for  the  last  time  from  the  home  of  his  ancestors, 
and  the  sheriff's  men  were  summoned  in  to  take  possession 
of  the  castle  and  its  property." 

This  story,  so  sympathetically  told,  was  sadly  true  ;  but 
my  information  lays  the  date  of  its  occurrence  some  few  years 
anterior  to  the  time  here  indicated.  I  rather  think  the 
seizure  thus  described  took  place  in  1845  or  1847,  at  the  in- 
stance of  a  Mr.  J.  "W.  Sherlock,  solicitor,  of  Fermoy.  The 
final  execution  was  levied  in  1849,  at  the  instance  of  a  family 
group  of  whom  we  shall  hear  more  in  a  subsequent  chapter, — 
the  Sadleir-Scully  family.  The  foreclosed  mortgage  on  which 
the  Kingston  estates  were  sold  out  in  1850  had  been  made 
to  Thomas  Joseph  Eyre,  William  Stourton,  James  Scully, 
and  James  Sadleir.  Mr.  Eyre  appointed  his  relative,  Mr. 
John  Sadleir,  afterward  M.  P.  for  Carlow,  receiver  over  the 
estates.  Mr.  Sadleir  organized  a  land  company  to  purchase 
the  property.  The  shares  in  this  company  later  on  passed 
mainly  into  the  hands  of  two  of  the  directors,  of  whom  Mr. 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  179 

Nathaniel  Buckley,  a  Lancashire  manufacturer,  was  one. 
Mr.  Buckley  bought  out,  or  otherwise  arranged  with,  his  col- 
league, and  became  lord  of  the  place,  appointing  as  his  agent 
Mr.  Patten  S.  Bridge,  who,  on  the  crash  of  the  Sadleir  bank 
in  1856,  Avas  manager  of  the  Thurles  branch.  Deplorable 
incidents  of  recent  occurrence  have  given  a  gloomy  notoriety, 
for  the  passing  moment,  to  this  same  Mitchelstown  estate, 
and  have  brought  into  distressing  prominence  the  names  of 
Mr.  Buckley  and  Mr.  Patten  S.  Bridge.* 

Toward  the  close  of  1847,  or  early  in  1848,  it  became 
noised  about  in  Ireland  that  the  Government  contemplated 
a  scheme  for  removing  the  debt-loaded  landlord  class  in 
Ireland.  The  necessity  for  some  such  step,  its  usefulness, 
its  national  importance,  none  could  deny,  and  none  more 
freely  admitted  than  the  Irish  proprietors  themselves.  With- 
out touching  on  the  broader  and  deeper  question  of  the 
abstract  utility  of  facilitating  the  transfer  of  land  and  its  sale 
in  small  parcels,  there  were  in  Ireland  peculiar  reasons  why  such 
a  project  must  be  beneficial.  A  large  section  of  the  landlord 
class  were  little  better  than  nominal  proprietors.  A  moun- 
tain-load of  mortgages  or  a  net-work  of  settlements  rendered 
them  powerless  to  attempt  or  carry  out  any  of  the  numerous 
reforms  and  improvements  which  a  really  free  and  independ- 
ent owner  might  arrange  with  his  tenantry.  Many  an  Irish 
gentleman,  with  a  nominal  rent-roll  of  thousands  or  tens  of 
thousands  a  year,  possessed  in  reality  to  his  own  use  scarcely 
so  many  hundreds.  To  not  a  few  of  the  class  the  hollowness 
and  unreality  of  their  position  had  become  intolerable.  The 
lord  of  some  ancient  mansion  or  ivied  castle,  with  estates 
that  reached  in  miles  on  either  hand,  often  envied  the  hum- 
ble merchant  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year,  who  had  no 
state  to  maintain,  no  retinue  to  support,  no  false  position  in 

*  Twice  within  the  past  two  years  Mr.  Bridge  has  been  murderously 
waylaid.  On  the  last  occasion  a  regular  fusillade  was  exchanged  be- 
tween his  armed  escort  of  police  and  the  assassins.  Mr.  Bridge 
escaped,  but  his  coachman  was  shot  dead.. 


180  NEW  IRELAND. 

society  to  uphold.  With  men  so  circumstanced,  indulgence 
to  their  tenantry  was  almost  impossible,  and  the  temptation 
to  cupidity,  to  rack-renting,  and  to  extortion  was  strong  and 
ever  pressing.  It  was  true  statesmanship  to  afford  a  cure 
for  evils  so  serious  and  so  complicated.  The  Irish  Encum- 
bered Estates  Act,  regarded  in  this  sense,  was  one  of  the 
greatest  legislative  boons  ever  conferred  on  Ireland.  In  its 
actual  results,  good  and  evil,  hurt  and  service,  cause  for  sat- 
isfaction and  cause  for  regret,  are  considerably  mingled.  In 
some  very  important  particulars  the  expectations  and  designs 
of  its  promoters  have  been  disappointed  and  contradicted. 
But  when  every  allowance  has  been  made,  there  still  is  to  be 
said  that  a  great  and  incalculable  gain  has  been  achieved, 
though  at  somewhat  of  painful  price. 

The  measure,  excellent  in  itself,  was  proposed  and  pre- 
sented to  Ireland  at  such  a  time  and  under  such  circum- 
stances as  to  give  it  a  decidedly  sinister  aspect.  To  no  man, 
to  no  class  of  men,  can  a  sentence  of  abolition  or  extinction 
be  welcome  at  any  time.  "  Life  is  sweet."  But  when  men 
feel  that  special  advantage  is  taken  of  a  special  misfortune  in 
order  to  encompass  their  destruction,  for  no  matter  how 
great  a  public  good, — if  they  are  "struck  when  down," — 
they  regard  the  proceeding  with  a  peculiar  bitterness.  Thus 
felt  many  an  Irish  landlord  the  proposal  of  the  Encumbered 
Estates  Act.  It  came  upon  him,  he  would  say,  when  he 
needed  rather  indulgence,  consideration,  and  aid.  It  caught 
him  in  a  moment  of  helplessness  and  exhaustion.  What- 
ever chance  he  might  have  of  retrieving  his  position  at  any 
other  time,  he  had  none  now.  Landed  property  was  a  drug 
in  the  market.  On  many  estates  no  rents  had  been  paid  dur- 
ing the  famine.  On  some  the  poor-rates  had  reached  twenty 
shillings  in  the  pound  of  yearly  valuation.  To  challenge 
Irish  landlords  at  such  a  moment  with  the  stern  ultimatum 
of  "Pay  or  quit"  was  naked  destruction.  To  visit  upon 
them  at  the  close  of  the  famine  the  penalty  for  inherited  in- 
debtedness and  embarrassment  was,  in  many  cases,  sacrificing 


TEE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  181 

the  innocent  for  the  sins  of  their  forefathers, — sacrificing 
them  under  circumstances  of  peculiar  hardship  and  injustice. 
In  fine,  the  Encumbered  Estates  Act  ought  to  have  been 
passed  long  years  before, — in  some  period  of  tranquility  and 
comparative  plenty.  Enacted  when  it  was,  it  could  but 
wear  an  aspect  of  harshness  or  hostility,  could  accomplish 
its  unquestionably  useful  aims  only  at  the  cost  of  excessive 
sacrifice  and  suffering. 

What  were  those  aims?  They  were  stated  in  one  way, 
had  one  meaning,  in  the  bill  brought  into  Parliament ;  they 
were  stated  very  differently  in  the  leading  organs  of  English 
public  opinion.  On  the  face  of  the  Government  measure  one 
could  read  fairly  enough  a  proposal  to  enable  a  court  specially 
constituted  to  order  the  sale  of  estates  encumbered  by  indebt- 
edness, on  the  petition  so  praying  of  any  person  sufficiently 
interested  as  owner  or  creditor  ;  all  statutes,  settlements, 
deeds,  or  covenants  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding  ;  to  the 
end  that  debts  justly  due  might  be  paid  so  far  as  the  prop- 
erty could  answer  them ;  that  a  proprietary  emancipated 
from  the  injurious  restraints  of  family  settlements  and  the 
crushing  burdens  of  family  debts  might  be  brought  to  the  aid 
of  the  Irish  land  system  ;  and  that  a  concise,  simple,  and  inde- 
feasible form  of  title  might  be  substituted  for  the  voluminous, 
confused,  and  ponderous  legal  scrolls  in  which  title  to  landed 
property  was  hitherto  set  forth.  So  manifestly  useful  were 
such  proposals,  so  valuable  to  any  country  a  tribunal  with 
such  powers,  that  one  is  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  (as  some 
of  the  Irish  peers  and  members  of  Parliament  asked  at  the 
time)  the  bill  was  not  applied  to  England  and  Scotland,  and 
was  to  extend  to  Ireland  alone.  The  comments  and  glossary 
of  some  English  newspapers  seemed  to  supply  an  answer  to 
this  very  natural  interrogatory,  but  it  was  one  not  calculated 
to  recommend  the  bill  in  Ireland.  We  were  told  to  read  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  Government  measure  a  plan  for  the  more 
sure  effectuation  of  the  new  plantation.  Not  alone  were  the 
Irish  tenantry  to  be  replaced  by  English  and  lowland-Scotch 


182  NEW  IRELAND. 

colonists,  but  the  Irish  landlords  also  were  to  be  cleared  off, 
an  English  proprietary  being  established  in  their  stead. 
"  English  capital "  was  at  long  last  to  flow  into  Ireland  in 
the  purchase  of  these  estates.  The  dream  of  Elizabeth  and 
James  and  Charles  was  to  be  accomplished  in  the  reign  of 
Victoria.  The  island  was  to  be  peopled  by  a  new  race, — 
was  to  be  anglicized  "  from  the  center  to  the  sea."  In  truth, 
between  evictions  and  emigration  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
working  of  the  Encumbered  Estates  Court  on  the  other,  so 
it  seemed  that  it  would  be.  "  In  a  few  years  more,"  said  the 
London  Times,  "  a  Celtic  Irishman  will  be  as  rare  in  Con- 
nemara  as  is  the  Red  Indian  on  the  shores  of  Manhattan." 

If  the  bullock  being  led  to  the  abattoir  could  understand 
and  be  consoled  by  remarks  upon  the  excellent  sirloin  and 
juicy  steak  which  he  was  sure  to  furnish,  so  ought  the  Irish 
landlords  and  tenants  to  have  taken  kindly  the  able  speeches 
and  learned  leading  articles  which  declared  they  were  being 
slaughtered  for  the  public  good.  But  they  had  not  a  philos- 
ophy equal  to  this  lofty  view  of  things,  and  they  called  it 
hard  names. 

In  the  early  days  of  February,  1848,  the  Irish  Encum- 
bered Estates  Bill  was  introduced  into  the  House  of  Lords. 
On  the  24th  of  February  it  was  read  a  second  time.  Through 
the  months  of  March  and  April  it  lay  perdu,  the  Government 
and  the  country  apparently  being  engrossed  with  the  more 
exciting  and  exigent  topics  of  the  period.  On  the  8th  of 
May,  however,  the  Lords  suddenly  resumed  consideration  of 
the  bill,  and,  making  up  for  lost  time,  passed  it  through  all 
remaining  stages  in  two  or  three  days !  A  week  subse- 
quently it  was  introduced  in  the  Commons,  and  on  the  18th 
of  May  was  read  a  second  time  with  less  of  debate  than 
would  now  be  given  to  a  parish  gas-bill.  Not  an  Irish  mem- 
ber seems  to  have  opened  his  lips  at  this  stage  on  a  measure 
which  was  designed  and  calculated  to  effect  the  most  mo- 
mentous changes  in  Ireland  !  On  the  4th  of  July  Sir  Lu- 
cius O'Brien,  afterward  Lord  Inchiquin,  then  member  for 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  183 

Clare,  raised  a  rather  protracted  debate  by  an  amendment 
proposing  to  extend  the  bill  to  England,  —  a  suggestion 
strongly  opposed  and  easily  defeated  by  the  Government. 
On  the  13th  of  July  the  bill  went  through  committee.  On 
the  24th  of  July,  1848,  it  passed  the  third  reading,  and  in  a 
few  days  more  was  law. 

On  the  21st  of  October,  1849,  the  first  "Petition  for 
Sale  "  was  filed  under  the  new  act ;  and  there  soon  set  in  a 
state  of  things  which  most  people  foresaw, — a  rush  of  cred- 
itors to  the  court,  an  inevitable  sacrifice  of  property.  As  in 
a  commercial  panic,  men  who  at  first  had  never  dreamed  of 
selling,  beholding  the  hourly  increasing  depreciation,  rushed 
wildly  in  and  accelerated  the  downward  tendency  of  prices. 
In  this  storm  many  a  noble  fortune  was  wrecked,  many  an 
ancient  and  honored  family  went  down.  Estates  that  would 
have  been  well  able  to  pay  twice  the  encumbrances  laid  upon 
them,  if  property  was  at  all  near  its  ordinary  level  of  value, 
now  failed  to  realize  enough  to  meet  the  mortgages,  and  the 
proprietors  were  devoted  to  ruin. 

I  have  already  told  or  quoted  the  story  of  the  Kingston 
estates.  The  history  of  the  early  operations  of  the  new  court 
is  full  of  such  episodes.  Second  only  to  Lord  Kingston's 
case  in  the  sympathy  which  it  called  forth  was  that  of  Lord 
Gort.  Among  the  names  retained  in  Irish  popular  memory 
of  the  men  who  stood  by  "  ever-glorious  Grattan  "  in  the  last 
days  of  the  Irish  parliament,  that  of  Colonel  the  Right  Hon. 
Charles  Vereker,  M.P.,  is  honorably  placed.  Hurriedly 
called  to  the  field  by  the  alarm  of  a  French  landing  at 
Killala,  he  was  put  in  command  of  the  first  troops  assembled 
to  resist  the  eastward  march  of  the  Franco-Irish  force  ;  and 
he  it  was  who,  at  Coloony,  near  Sligo,  first  reversed  the  dis- 
grace of  the  British  flight  at  Castlebar.  For  this  he  was 
made  Viscount  Gort,  taking  his  title  from  the  neat  little  town 
which  adjoined  the  family  demesne  at  Lough  Cooter  Castle.  * 

*  The  Right  Hon.  Colonel  Vereker  of  Coloony  had  the  peerage 
granted  to  his  uncle  John  Prendergast  of  Gort,  -whose  heir  he  was,  and 


184  NEW  IRELAND. 

The  French  were  finally  defeated  by  Lord  Lake  at  Ballina- 
muck,  and  Colonel  Vereker  returned  from  the  camp  to  the 
senate, — from  a  fight  for  his  king  against  Humbert,  to  a  fight 
for  his  country  against  Pitt.  His  name  figures  to  the  last  in 
the  division-lists  against  the  Union.  In  1850  his  son,  John 
P.  Vereker,  was  owner  of  the  castle  and  estates  when  the 
thunderbolt  that  laid  even  prouder  houses  low  fell  heavily 
and  undeservedly  on  his. 

Lough  Cooter  Castle,  one  of  the  "show  places"  of  the 
western  counties,  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  lake  from  which 
it  takes  its  name,  two  miles  from  the  town  of  Gort,  in  Galway 
County.  The  castle  is  quite  modern,  having  been  erected  at 
a  cost  of  about  eighty  thousand  pounds  by  the  second  viscount, 
from  plans  by  Nash,  the  renovator  and  architect  of  the  newly- 
added  portion  of  Windsor  Castle.  It  is  described  as  built  in 
"  the  severe  Gothic  "  style.  The  walls  are  of  massive  solidity, 
and  constructed  of  beautifully-chiseled  limestone.  The  lake 
covers  an  area  of  nearly  eight  square  miles,  and  is  studded 
with  wooded  islands.  One  of  these  has  been  for  years  the 
home  of  innumerable  herons  and  cormorants, — perhaps  the 
only  instance  on  record  of  an  island  in  a  fresh- water  lake  being 
inhabited  by  the  latter  birds.  The  Gort  River  flows  out  of 
the  lake,  and,  at  a  romantic  glen  known  as  "  the  Punchbowl," 
distant  about  a  mile,  falls  into  a  deep  rocky  abyss,  totally  dis- 
appearing underground  till  it  reaches  Cannohoun.  Here  it 
rushes  out  of  a  rocky  cavern,  and  then  flows  through  Gort, 
where  it  turns  several  mills,  and,  falling,  again  makes  its  way 
— appearing  and  sinking  several  times — through  the  sands 
into  Kinvarra  Bay,  six  miles  from  Gort. 

The  Gort  unsettled  estates  lay  under  a  debt  in  all  of  about 
sixty  thousand  pounds.  In  1842  they  were  valued,  for  family 
arrangement  purposes,  at  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 

whose  property  he  inherited,  with  special  remainder  to  himself.  He 
accordingly  inherited  the  title  on  his  uncle's  death  as  second  viscount. 
The  flight  referred  to  was  called  "  the  races  of  Castlebar,"  and  as 
such  is  still  referred  to  in  the  neighborhood. 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT,  185 

pounds,  but  were  always  considered  to  be  worth  much  more. 
Eighteen  htmdred  and  forty-seven  found  Lord  Gort  a  resident 
landlord,  bravely  doing  his  duty,  refusing  to  fly,  scorning  to 
abandon  his  tenantry.  "  His  lordship,"  says  one  of  the  Irish 
newspapers,  "  was  always  opposed  to  the  clearance  system, 
which  he  characterized  as  merciless  and  unjustifiable,  and 
endeavored  practically  to  prove  that  a  resident  landlord,  by 
availing  himself  of  the  opportunities  that  occurred  from  time 
to  time,  could  consolidate  the  farms  on  his  estates,  and  intro- 
duce every  modern  improvement,  without  desolating  a  single 
happy  homestead  or  alienating  the  affections  of  his  tenantry." 
The  famine  came ;  rents  could  not  be  paid,  and  Lord  Gort 
would  not  resort  to  heartless  means  of  attempting  to  extort 
them.  The  interest  on  the  mortgage  fell  in  arrear ;  the  mort- 
gagee, taking  advantage  of  a  clause  in  his  mortgage-deed,  dis- 
charged the  local  land-agent,  and  appointed  in  his  stead  a  Lon- 
don attorney,  who,  I  believe,  had  never  seen  the  place,  and 
never  visited  it  even  when  acting  as  receiver  over  it.  A  peti- 
tion for  sale  of  the  property  was  lodged  in  Chancery,  whence 
the  proceedings  were  transferred  to  the  new  court  created  by 
the  Encumbered  Estates  Act.  One  may  imagine  the  feelings 
of  Lord  Gort  and  his  family,  for  they  but  too  well  knew  what 
a  forced  sale  of  landed  property  at  such  a  moment  meant. 
Their  worst  fears  were  realized.  They  saw  their  beautiful 
home — their  castle  and  lake  and  lands — swept  away,  sold  at 
panic  prices.  An  estate  that  should  have  left  them  a  hand- 
some income  beyond  every  conceivable  claim  was  unable  to 
free  the  mortgage  !  Right  well  they  knew — as  indeed  subse- 
quently happened — that  in  a  few  years  these  ancestral  acres, 
thus  torn  from  them  forever,  would  be  sold  again  at  very 
nearly  double  their  present  price.  Thirteen  years'  purchase 
was,  I  believe,  the  highest  given  at  this  sale.  Many  lots 
were  sold  at  five.  Some  portions  of  the  property  recently 
resold  have  fetched  twenty-five  and  twenty-seven  !  Lough 
Cooter  Castle,  worth  from  fifty  thousand  to  sixty  thousand 
pounds,  was  sold  for  seventeen  thousand.  The  fortunate 


186  NEW  IRELAND. 

purchaser — Mrs.  Ball,  Superioress  of  the  Religious  Order  of 
Mercy,  Dublin,  who  intended  converting  it  into  a  novitiate 
house  for  the  order — resold  it  soon  after  for  twenty-four 
thousand  pounds. 

Lot  1,  valuation  five  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  a  year, 
realized  but  three  thousand  pounds.  Lot  2,  valuation  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  pounds,  brought  six  hundred  pounds. 
The  Board  of  Ordnance  bought  Lord  Gort's  profit-rent  of 
eighty  pounds,  out  of  the  Gort  cavalry  barracks,  the  valua- 
tion being  two  hundred  and  eighty- three  pounds  a  year,  for 
one  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  The  constabu- 
lary barracks  and  other  premises,  valued  at  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  pounds,  fetched  seven  hundred  pounds.  The 
town-lands,  valued  at  five  hundred  and  seventy-nine  pounds 
a  year,  were  bought  by  the  mortgagee  for  two  thousand  eight 
hundred  pounds,  or  less  than  five  years'  purchase.  No  won- 
der that  sympathy  with  the  Vereker  family  was  wide  and 
general.  The  day  they  quitted  Lough  Cooter,  the  people 
surrounded  them  with  every  demonstration  of  attachment 
and  respect,  and  waved  them,  along  the  road,  a  sorrowful 
farewell  ! 

I  should  have  hesitated,  indeed,  to  touch  on  a  subject  so 
full  of  pain  as  this  must  ever  be  to  that  family,  were  it  not 
that  fortunate  -  circumstances  have,  happily,  since  then  re- 
trieved those  unmerited  disasters,  and  restored,  or  rather 
retained,  to  them,  the  status  which  for  a  moment  seemed  so 
cruelly  overthrown.  In  East  Cowes  Castle  (adjoining  Os- 
borne),  the  present  seat  of  the  Gort  family,  they  must  find 
much  to  remind  them  of,  and  recompense  them  for,  the 
equally  beautiful  spot  once  their  home  on  Lough  Cooter ; 
though  I  doubt  not  they  would  rather  see  from  the  castle- 
windows  the  island-studded  Irish  lough  than  the  flashing 
waters  of  the  Solent.  It  is  a  curious  coincidence  that  East 
Cowes  Castle  and  Lough  Cooter  Castle  were  erected  from 
designs  by  the  same  hand,  the  former  having  been  built  by 
Nash  for  his  own  residence.  At  the  beginning  of  the  pres- 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  187 

ent  century,  the  Prince  Regent  and  Lord  Gort  were  on  a 
visit  there,  when  the  latter  said  to  the  host,  "How  I  wish  I 
could  transport  this  castle  to  the  banks  of  Lough  Cooter  !  " 
"Give  me  fifty  thousand  pounds  and  I'll  doit  for  you," 
replied  Nash.  The  viscount  took  him  at  his  word  ;  and 
Nash  built  the  Irish  Castle,  which,  however,  eventually  cost 
more  than  twenby  thousand  pounds  beyond  the  sum  first 
named.  By  what  a  strange  revolution  of  fortune  it  has 
come  to  pass  that  the  family  should  lose  the  one  and  find 
their  home  in  the  other  mansion  ! 

The  catastrophes  incidental  to  the  early  operations  of  the 
Encumbered  Estates  Act  were  sure  to  prejudice  Irish  opinion 
against  it,  and  to  obscure  from  view  the  merits  and  advan- 
tages of  the  system  it  inaugurated.  So  far  from  the  famine- 
period  being  an  "opportunity"  for  such  a  measure,  that  was 
just  the  time  when  it  ought  to  have  been  withheld.  Forced 
into  operation  under  circumstances  so  abnormal,  it  worked, 
during  the  first  five  years  of  its  labors,  the  minimum  of 
benefit  with  the  maximum  of  suffering  and  sacrifice.  From 
1855  to  1875  the  functions  of  the  new  court  have  had  fairer 
scope,*  and  its  work  has  been  more  justly  appreciated  ;  and 
no  one  in  Ireland  would  now  deny  the  advantage  of  a  sys- 
tem which  so  largely  frees  and  simplifies  the  transfer  of  land. 
I  subjoin  an  exhibit  of  the  proceedings  from  the  filing  of 
the  first  petition,  25th  of  October,  1849,  to  31st  of  August, 
1857,  being  the  concluding  day  of  the  seventh  "session"  of 
the  commission : 


1.  Number  of  petitions  presented,  including  those  for  partition 

and  exchange,  as  well  as  for  sale 4164 

(Of  the  above,  about  800  were  supplemental,  drawn  and  dis- 
missed petitions.) 

2.  Number  of  absolute  orders  for  sale  .     8341 


*  By  a  supplementary  or  extending  act— the  Irish  Landed  Estates 
Act — in  1858  the  powers  of  the  court  were  extended  to  include  proper- 
ties not  encumbered. 


188  NEW  IRELAND. 

8.  Number  of  matters  in  which  owners  presented  petitions     .     1245 
(Of  the  first  100  petitions,  six  were  presented  by  owners.   Of 
the  last  100  petitions,  the  owners  of  estates  presented  fifty- 
three.) 

4  Number  of  matters  in  which  owners  were  bankrupts  or  in- 
solvents         357 

(In  very  many  other  cases,  the  owners  of  estates  became  bank- 
rupts or  insolvents  after  the  petitions  were  presented,  and 
the  proceedings  were  subsequently  carried  on  in  the  name 
of  their  assignees.) 

5.  Number  of  conveyances  executed  by  the  commissioners       .     7283 

6.  Number  of  estates  or  parts  of  estates  sold  by  provincial  auc- 

tion, subsequently  confirmed  by  the  commissioners   .         .       338 
By  private  proposal,  accepted  by  the  commissioners. 
The  remainder  of  the  premises  comprised  in  the  above  7283 
conveyances  were  all  sold  by  public  auction,  in  court,  be- 
fore the  commissioners. 

7.  Number  of  lots,  viz. : 

By  public  auction,  in  court 7270 

By  provincial  auction 1436 

By  private  contract 1621 

10,327 

When  the  same  person  became  the  purchaser  of  several  lots 
he  generally  had  them  included  in  the  same  conveyance. 

8.  Number  of  boxes  containing  upward  of  250,000  documents 

and  muniments  of  title,  deposited  in  the  Record  Office      .     2395 

9.  Number  of  cases  which  had  been  pending  in  the  Court  of 

Chancery  before  being  brought  into  the  Encumbered  Es- 
tates Court  1267 

10.  Number  of  Irish  purchasers 7180 

11.  Number  of  English,  Scotch,  and  foreign  purchasers    .        .       309 

12.  Amount  of  purchase-money  paid  by  English, 

Scotch,  and  foreign  purchasers      .        .        .     £2,836,225      0    0 

13.  Gross  proceeds  of  sale  to  31st  August,  1857  : 

By  public  auction,  in  court  ....  £13,941,207  10  0 
By  provincial  auction  .  .  r  .  .  2,824,381  0  0 
By  private  contract 3,710,367  18  4 

£20,475,956      8    4 


The  largest  estate  sold  within  that  period — the  largest  ever 
sold  by  the  court — was  that  of  the  Earl  of  Portarlingto 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  189 

which  realized  seven  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Very  nearly 
the  next  in  extent  was  that  of  Lord  Mountcashel, — sixty-one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  eleven  acres,  with  a  yearly  rental 
of  eighteen  thousand  five  hundred  pounds, — which  was  sold 
for  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand  pounds.  Lord  Mount- 
cashel, who  considered  himself  treated  with  peculiar  harsh- 
ness and  injustice  by  the  petitioners,  was  greatly  angered  with 
Mr.  Commissioner  Hargreave,  before  whom  the  sale  was  con- 
summated. The  commissioner,  as  is  well  remembered  in 
Dublin,  was  a  very  small-sized  gentleman,  and  his  office  was 
situate  on  the  bedroom  story  of  the  house  14  Henrietta 
Street,  at  that  time  used  as  the  Landed  Estates  Court.  Lord 
Mountcashel,  during  the  proceedings,  was  heard  to  exclaim 
that  it  was  bad  enough  to  have  his  estates  confiscated,  but  to 
be  "  sold  up  by  a  dwarf  in  a  garret "  was  more  than  he  could 
endure ! 

Since  I860  the  transactions  in  the  court  have  considerably 
changed  in  character.  Adverse  petitions  by  encumbrancers 
grow  fewer,  and  applications  by  owners  themselves,  anxious 
to  simplify  title  and  to  disentangle  family  settlements  and 
arrangements,  grow  more  and  more  frequent.  The  tribunal 
once  viewed  with  such  gloomy  aversion  is  now  regarded  with 
something  akin  to  national  favor. 

The  anticipations  and  prophecies  about  "English  capital" 
have  all  proved  illusory.  It  will  be  noticed  from  the  statis- 
tics given  above  that  up  to  August,  1857,  out  of  seven  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  eighty-nine  purchasers,  seven  thousand 
one  hundred  and  eighty  were  Irish  ;  only  three  hundred  and 
nine  were  "English,  Scotch,  or  foreigners."  Out  of  twenty 
million  four  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  nine  hundred 
and  fifty-six  pounds  realized  by  the  court  up  to  the  same  date, 
more  than  five-sixths  of  the  amount,  or  seventeen  million  six 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  thousand  seven  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  pounds,  was  Irish  capital,  invested  by  Irish  purchasers ; 
and,  although  I  am  unable  to  verify  the  exact  figures  of  the 
interval  since  then,  I  believe  the  proportion  between  Irish 


190  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  non-Irish  purchasers  remains  very  much  the  same  to  the 
present  time.  English  capital  has  preferred  Turkish  bonds 
and  Honduras  loans. 

The  tenantry  in  many  instances  complain  that  they  have 
gained  little  and  lost  much  in  the  change  from  the  old  mas- 
ters to  the  new.  The  latter  are  chiefly  mercantile  men  who 
have  saved  money  in  trade  and  invest  it  for  a  safe  percentage. 
They  import  what  the  country-people  depreciatingly  call  "  the 
ledger  and  day-book  principle  "  into  the  management  of  their 
purchases,  which  contrasts  unfavorably  in  their  minds  with 
the  more  elastic  system  of  the  old  owners.  Although  not 
blind  to  the  hardships  which  often  attend  this  greater  strict- 
ness, I  consider  the  new  system  has  introduced  few  more 
valuable  reforms  than  this  which  enforces  method,  punctu- 
ality, and  precision  in  the  half-yearly  settlements  between 
landlord  and  tenant  in  Ireland.  It  is  not  conducive  to  a 
manly  independence  that  the  occupier  should  be  permanently 
"  behindhand  with  his  rent ; "  that  is  to  say,  beholden  to  the 
favor  and  sufferance  of  his  lord.  Much  of  the  subjection  and 
the  slavishness  of  peasant  life  in  the  old  Ireland  grew  out  of 
this  habitual  arrear  ;  and  one  must  honestly  rejoice  if  it  be 
changed  in  the  new. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE  TENANT  LEAGUE. 

IT  was  not  to  be  expected  that  the  enormous  dimensions  to 
which  the  "Famine  clearances"  had  attained  would  fail  to 
evoke  some  protest  of  public  opinion.  By  1850  the  eviction- 
scenes  had  filled  the  land  with  uneasiness  and  alarm.  The 
theory  that  had  for  a  while  lulled  the  country  into  a  sort  of 
tolerance  of  them — namely,  that  clearances  and  emigration 
would  make  things  "better  for  those  who  went,  and  for 
those  who  remained  " — gave  place  to  apprehensions  that  in- 
tensified every  day.  As  early  as  the  spring  of  1849,  public 
meetings  began  to  give  a  voice  to  the  general  sentiment,  and 
ere  many  months  the  whole  island  was  in  moral  revolt.  Not 
one  province  alone — not  one  geographical  section  alone,  as 
had  hitherto  been  the  case— declared  for  resistance.  The 
sturdy  Presbyterians  of  Down  and  Antrim  and  Derry  were 
as  resolute  as  the  quick-blooded  Catholic  Celts  of  Cork  and 
Mayo  and  Tipperary.  For  the  first  time  in  fifty  years  Ulster 
held  out  a  hand  to  Munster  in  fraternal  grasp.  The  ruin 
that  had  desolated  the  other  provinces  was  beginning  its 
work  of  destruction  in  the  North. 

In  studying  the  Irish  land  question,  one  is  confronted  in 
limine  by  what  is  called  the  "Ulster  custom,"  or  the  "Uls- 
ter tenant-right."  To  this  custom,  or  right,  Ulster  is  ad- 
mittedly indebted  for  the  exceptional  prosperity  and  content- 
ment of  its  agricultural  population.  To  the  absence  of  that 
custom — the  denial  of  any  such  right — elsewhere  in  Ireland 
may  be  most  largely  attributed  the  dismal  contrast  which 
has  prevailed  in  these  respects.  This  Ulster  system  has 

191 


192  NEW  IRELAND. 

within  the  past  century  been  somewhat  encroached  upon, 
and  now  varies  in  different  parts  of  the  province,  and  even  on 
different  properties  of  the  same  owner.  It  grew  out  of  the 
spirit  more  than  the  letter  of  the  charters  and  grants  under 
which  Ulster  was  " planted"  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  Sub- 
stantially it  was  a  right  of  continuous  occupancy  by  the  tenant, 
at  a  fair  rent, — one  not  raised  by  reason  of  any  value  added  to 
the  soil  by  the  tenant's  industry  or  outlay.  This  right  of  oc- 
cupancy grew  to  be  in  the  aggregate  a  vast  property,  according 
as  the  tenants  improved  the  soil  and  increased  the  value  of 
their  holdings.  The  tenant-right  of  many  properties  exceeded 
in  value  the  fee-simple  purchase.  A  property,  be  it  supposed, 
the  fair  value  of  which,  exclusive  of  tenant's  improvements, 
was  judged  to  be  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year,  or  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  pounds  in  all,  half  a  century  ago, 
had,  by  the  labor  and  capital  of  the  tenants  expended  there- 
upon, become  value  for  twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year,  or 
five  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Of  this  the  landlord  still 
owned  but  his  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  ;  the 
other  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  belonged  to  the 
tenantry,  was  recognized  to  be  as  fully  and  legally  theirs  as 
the  landlord's  fee-simple  was  his.  This  tenant-right  was 
bought  and  sold  daily  ;  that  is,  the  out-going  sold  to  the  in- 
coming tenant  his  interest  in  the  farm.  On  a  farm  of  fifty 
acres  an  Ulster  tenant  has  often  obtained  twenty  years', 
sometimes  thirty  years',  purchase  of  the  margin  between  his 
rent  and  the  valuation,  probably  a  sum  of  three  thousand 
pounds.  If  a  landlord  wished  to  evict  a  tenant,  he  could  do 
so  by  buying  up  from  him  the  tenant-right  of  the  farm.  He 
could,  of  course,  evict  for  non-payment  of  rent,  or  other 
reasons  ;  but  in  every  such  case  he  was  bound  to  hand  over 
in  cash  to  the  evicted  tenant  any  balance  remaining  out  of 
the  marketable  value  of  the  tenant-right  of  the  holding  after 
deducting  the  amount  of  rent,  cost,  or  damages  legally  due. 
Or  (very  much  the  same  in  effect)  the  landlord  might  say  to 
the  tenant,  "  You  are  not  paying  your  rent ;  you  are  wast- 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  193 

ing  your  farm  ;  you  must  quit ;  go  sell  as  best  you  can  your 
tenant-right,  pay  me  my  claims,  and  go." 

Under  this  system — unknown  or  rather  unrecognized  by  law 
outside  of  Ulster — that  province  bloomed  like  a  garden  and  be- 
came the  home  of  thrift  and  plenty,  of  contentment  and  pros- 
perity, even  before  the  energy  of  the  people,  applied  to  manu- 
facturing industries,  had  opened  for  them  new  paths  to  wealth. 

How  was  it  that  this  system,  so  fruitful  in  good  result,  was 
established  in  one  province  alone  ?  Why  have  the  efforts  of 
the  tenant  class  elsewhere  to  obtain  like  rights  been  so  steadily 
and  vehemently  resisted  ? 

The  answer  is  neither  pleasant  to  tell  nor  agreeable  to 
hear.  Because  Ulster  was  a  "  Plantation  colony  ; "  because 
in  Ulster  the  plantation  landlords  got  their  lands  on  implied 
or  express  condition  of  "  planting  "  them, — rooting  a  popula- 
tion in  the  soil ;  whereas  elsewhere  the  policy  of  the  time 
was  to  unplant,  to  uproot,  to  clear  away  the  Popish  natives. 
Even  where,  in  the  other  provinces,  in  course  of  time  the 
uprooting  became  too  odious  or  too  dangerous,  there  still 
remained  this  much  of  its  essence,  in  strong  contrast  to 
"the  Ulster  custom,"  namely,  the  axiom  that  the  tenant 
had  no  right  of  continuous  occupancy,  held  only  from  year 
to  year  on  the  landlord's  sufferance,  and  was  not  regarded 
in  law  as  owning  a  shilling's  worth  of  even  his  own  out- 
lay. If  he  drained  or  improved,  so  that  bog-land  worth  two 
shillings  an  acre  was  made  corn-land  worth  as  many  pounds, 
the  landlord  was  legally  entitled  to  call  that  improvement  his, 
and  to  make  that  tenant  pay  two  pounds  an  acre  for  that  land. 

What  could  come  of  such  a  system  as  this,  the  cruel  oppo- 
site of  the  "  Ulster  right,"  but  a  state  of  agriculture  and  a 
state  of  society  the  reverse  of  that  which  smiled  on  the 
northern  province  ?  Negligence  in  place  of  thrift ;  squalor 
in  place  of  comfort  and  neatness ;  hovels  in  place  of  houses  ;  * 

*  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  wretchedness  of  Irish  peasant 
homes,  their  grievous  disregard  of  comfort,  neatness,  or  cleanliness, 
was  derived  almost  entirely  from  the  idea  that  improvement  would 
9 


194  NEW  IRELAND. 

insecurity,  mistrust,  ill-will,  hostility  between  landlord  and 
tenant ;  a  hatred  of  the  Government,  and  a  deadly  hostility 
to  the  law,  that  drew  this  line  of  distinction,  this  line  of 
oppression  and  wrong,  between  the  Protestant  North  and 
the  Popish  South.  If  happily  the  evils  one  would  have 
thought  inevitable  were  not  everywhere  visible,  it  Avas  in 
spite  of  the  system,  not  because  of  it.  If  the  landlord  did 
not  in  every  case  appropriate  in  the  shape  of  a  raised  rent 
the  fruits  of  the  tenant's  industry,  it  was  because  that  par- 
ticular landlord  or  family  was  more  honest  than  the  law. 

In  a  differently-constituted  community — in  a  country  where 
proprietor  and  cultivator  were  of  one  race  and  faith,  boasted 
of  the  same  nationality,  and  were  on  the  whole  moved  by  the 
same  political  aims — this  system  might  perhaps  work  but 
little  evil ;  although  the  empowering  of  one  class  to  profit 
by  wronging  another  generally  produces  social  conflict.  But 
in  the  Celtic  Catholic  provinces  of  Ireland,  where  the  soil 
was,  as  a  rule,  given  over  to  be  owned  by  men  of  one  nation 
and  creed,  and  tilled  by  men  of  another  race  and  faith, 
where  lord  and  peasant  represented  conqueror  and  conquered, 
what  was  such  a  code  calculated  to  bring  forth  ? 

Besides,  it  was  not  merely  that  the  farmers  of  Minister, 
Connaught,  and  Leinster  saw  equity  made  to  be  the  law  in 
the  Protestant  corner  of  the  island,  but  that,  moreover,  this 
same  right  of  continuous  occupancy,  at  a  fair  rent  or  "lord's 
tribute,"  was,  in  truth,  their  own  ancient  Celtic  tenure,  to 
which  they  clung  with  inveterate  tenacity.  The  subjection 
of  Ireland  to  the  English  Crown — the  confiscations  of  six 
centuries — meant,  in  their  minds,  change  of  masters  to  whom 
rent  was  payable,  but  never  a  change  which  annihilated 
their  right  to  occupy  the  land  on  payment  of  its  rent.  In 

invoke  a  rise  of  rent.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  was  full  of  a  glowing  zeal 
for  "cottage  flower-gardens"  and  removal  of  threshold  dung-heaps  ; 
but  my  exhortations  were  all  to  no  purpose.  I  was  extinguished  by 
the  remark,  "Begor,  sir,  if  we  make  the  place  so  nate  as  that,  the 
agint  will  say  we  are  able  to  pay  more  rint." 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  195 

theory  of  law,  no  doubt,  the  new  system  came  in  when  the 
Brehon  Code  disappeared  in  1607 ;  but  for  two  centuries 
afterward  the  full  nature  and  extent  of  the  change  as  to 
land  tenure  was  not  recognized  by  the  agricultural  popula- 
tion. The  treaty  between  England  and  Ireland,  concluded 
on  the  capitulation  of  Limerick  in  1691,  contained  many 
hard  terms,  though  it  secured  some  valuable  rights  for  the 
latter  country,  which,  though  the  pact  was  broken  on  the 
other  side,  never  drew  hostile  sword  again  for  more  than  a 
hundred  years.  Had  the  masses  of  the  population,  how- 
ever, realized  that  it  was  not  merely  a  change  of  landlords, 
but  a  loss  of  right  to  live  upon  the  soil,  that  the  revolution 
brought  for  them,  they  would  have  bathed  the  island  in 
blood  before  they  submitted.  As  it  was,  according  as  the 
dreadful  reality  slowly  dawned  on  them,  they  resisted  it  in 
their  isolated,  disorganized,  and  lawless  way,  by  the  rude 
and  horrible  warfare  known  in  our  sad  annals  as  "agrarian 
outrage."  The  "Rapparees"  and  "Tories"  of  the  last  cen- 
tury—the "Whitefeet,"  the  "Terryalts,"  the  "  Eockites," 
the  "Defenders,"  the  "Eibbonmen" — all  these  agrarian 
combinations  and  conspiracies  were  merely  so  many  phases 
in  what  has  been  aptly  called  "  a  low  form  of  civil  war." 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  how  should  Ulster  tenants,  blessed 
with  so  secure  a  tenure  and  with  property  so  well  protected, 
suffer  by  the  ills  which  led  to  "clearances"  elsewhere  in 
1849  and  1850  ?  The  answer  and  explanation  bring  into 
view  a  feature  or  result  of  the  Ulster  system  which  few  per- 
sons, even  in  that  province  itself,  seem  to  have  perceived. 
The  Ulster  custom  was  almost  exclusively  beneficial  for  the 
tenant  as  long  as  things  went  well  ;  but  if  a  series  of  adverse 
seasons  came,  and  the  Value  of  farm-holdings  fell,  the  loss 
was  exclusively  his.  Before  the  landlord's  interest  could  be 
affected  to  the  extent  of  a  shilling,  the  tenant-right,  equal  in 
value  to  the  fee-simple,  should  first  be  consumed.  The  rent 
was  always  a  first  lien  on  that  tenant-right ;  and  as  long  as 
at  auction  it  would  fetch  a  penny  more  than  the  rent,  the 


196  NEW  IRELAND. 

landlord  was  in  no  way  to  suffer  by  "  bad  times."  Of  course 
there  were  to  be  found  several  Ulster  landlords  who  in  '48, 
'49,  and  '50  disdained  to  stand  in  this  way  on  their  undoubted 
right,  and  who  stepped  forward  voluntarily  to  assist  their 
tenantry ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  whole  of  the  famine- 
losses  came  out  of  the  margin  of  value  which,  in  the  form 
of  tenant-right  interest,  stood  between  the  landlords  and  any 
touch  of  disaster.  The  occasion,  moreover,  was  seized  by 
some  of  the  northern  landlords  to  buy  up  in  hard  bargains 
of  the  necessitous  tenant,  or  to  encroach  upon  and  cramp 
and  squeeze  the  ancient  rights  of  which  the  Ulster  farmers 
were  so  proud ;  so  that  in  1850  the  Derry  Standard  and 
Banner  of  Ulster  newspapers  were  as  "  seditiously  "  violent 
in  language  as  the  Nation,  the  Cork  Examiner,  or  the  Free- 
man's Journal. 

Following  upon  the  public  meetings  came  the  formation  of 
what  was  called  "Tenant  Protection  Societies."  The  first 
in  point  of  time  was  established  in  Callan,  county  Kilkenny, 
where  two  young  curates  of  the  Catholic  Church — Rev. 
Thomas  O'Shea  and  Rev.  Matthew  Keeffe — had,  by  their 
passionate  eloquence  and  earnest  enthusiasm,  aroused  the 
whole  population.  But  the  North,  the  men  of  Ulster,  led  by 
the  honored  veteran  of  the  tenant's  cause,  William  Sharman 
Crawford,  M.P.,  early  took  the  front.  It  was  not  alone  in 
their  press  and  on  their  platforms  the  Ulster  Presbyterians 
agitated  tenant-right ;  they  imported  it  into  their  strictly 
ecclesiastical  assemblages  or  synods,  much  to  the  horror  of 
some  of  the  elders.  When  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rogers,  of  Comber, 
moved  a  resolution  in  the  Presbyterian  Synod  of  Ulster 
(May,  1850)  that  a  petition  be  presented  to  Parliament  in 
favor  of  tenant-right,  Dr.  Cooke  said  it  was  dreadful.  Not 
that  he  was  less  ardent  as  a  tenant-righter  than  the  youngest 
of  them  ;  but  he  had  heard  "  rank  communism  "  preached  by 
some  of  the  reverend  brethren  around  him.  Mr.  Potter,  of 
Islandmagee,  asked  him  what  he  meant ;  the  land  question 
was  intimately  connected  with  the  moral  and  religious  condi- 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  197 

tion  of  their  people.  Dr.  Cooke  replied  that  some  of  the 
brethren  had  committed  communism  by  "  attacks  on  the  no- 
bility and  aristocracy  of  the  land,  thus  violating  the  word  of 
God,  which  says,  'Thou  shalt  not  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of 
my  people  ; '  "  which  he  interpreted  there  and  then  to  mean, 
not  merely  the  Queen,  but  all  concerned  in  governing  the 
country.  This  was  rather  too  much  for  the  synod. 

Eev.  Mr.  KOGERS. — "With  regard  to  the  Socialist  doc- 
trines alleged  to  have  been  taught  by  tenant-right  advocates, 
I  shall  just  say  that  for  the  last  two  hundred  years  Socialism 
has  been  all  on  the  other  side  (hear,  hear).  The  entire  out- 
lay of  the  tenant-farmers  has  gone  periodically  into  the 
pockets  of  the  landlords.  A  small  minority  have  swallowed 
up  the  property  of  nine-tenths  of  the  province " 

Dr.  COOKE. — "Now,  here  it  is:  we  have  Socialism 
preached  here  in  the  synod  ! " 

Mr.  ROGERS. — "  I  state  a  fact.  It  would  seem  to  be  for- 
gotten by  some  members  that  the  poor  man  has  property 
which  should  be  as  fully  secured  as  that  of  the  rich." 

Eventually,  by  a  large  majority,  the  synod  resolved,  "  That 
the  synod  do  petition  Parliament  that  whatever  measure  they 
may  adopt  to  adjust  the  relations  of  landlord  and  tenant  in 
Ireland,  such  measure  shall  secure  to  the  tenant-farmers  of 
Ulster,  in  all  its  integrity,  the  prescriptive  usage  of  that 
province,  known  by  the  name  of  tenant-right." 

Then  came  the  adoption  of  the  petition  referred  to,  when 
ground  was  for  the  first  time  boldly  taken  by  those  Presby- 
terian clergymen  on  an  issue  which  at  the  present  hour,  in 
1877,  occupies  the  attention  of  Parliament, — the  extension 
by  law  to  the  rest  of  Ireland  of  rights  and  securities  analo- 
gous to  those  of  the  Ulster  custom.  Dr.  Cooke  in  grief 
declared  that  this  was  what  came  of  the  public  sin  of  Presby- 
terian ministers  being  seen  on  the  one  political  platform  with 
Romish  priests.  Then — 

Mr.  ROGERS. — "There  has  been  a  serious  objection  raised 
against  me  in  reference  to  my  conduct  because  I  have  co- 


198  NEW  IRELAND. 

operated  with  Popish  priests.  I  may  have  been  wrong  in  so 
doing  ;  and  all  I  wish  to  say  on  the  subject  is  that  in  doing 
it  I  was  only  following  the  example  of  Dr.  Cooke." 

Dr.  COOKE. — "I  defy  you  to  show  I  ever  co-operated  with 
one.  Where  or  when  was  it  ?  " 

Mr.  ROGERS. — "  Precisely  in  reference  to  the  site  of  the 
Queen's  College.  I  was  present  at  a  meeting  at  which  Dr. 
Cooke  and  Dr.  Denvir,  Catholic  bishop,  were  both  present." 

This  dreadful  imputation,  however,  the  venerable  old 
clergyman  was  able  to  disprove ;  but  he  could  not  shake  the 
determination  of  the  synod  to  pass  its  approval  of  the  great 
agitation  now  proceeding  out-of-doors. 

The  evil  which  so  appalled  Dr.  Cooke — Presbyterian  and 
Catholic  clergymen  co-operating  on  the  same  platform — was 
soon  to  obtain  wide  dimensions.  The  necessity  for  a  central 
authority  to  take  charge  of  the  new  movement  had  become 
deeply  felt ;  and  it  was  a  very  obvious  advantage  to  organize 
in  one  great  association  the  numerous  tenant  societies,  and 
like  local  bodies,  so  far  working  independently  all  over  the 
island.  On  the  27th  of  April,  1850,  the  following  announce- 
ment appeared  in  the  Irish  newspapers  : 

"  A  conference  is  about  to  be  summoned  in  Dublin  in  which  the  ten- 
ant societies  of  the  four  provinces  will  have  an  opportunity  of  compar- 
ing their  views  and  taking  measures  together.  The  parties  who  have 
united  in  summoning  it  belong  to  all  sections  of  the  popular  party,  and 
have  nothing  in  common  but  a  desire  to  bring  this  question  to  a  satis- 
factory settlement.  Their  circular  is  about  being  sent  to  all  existing 
tenant  societies,  to  the  popular  journalists,  and  to  the  most  active  and 
influential  friends  of  tenant-right  in  localities  which  have  not  yet  been 
organized." 

The  circular  was  signed  by  three  prominent  representative 
men,  of  as  many  different  creeds, — Dr.  (subsequently  Sir 
John)  Gray,  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  Freeman's  Journal, 
Church-of-England  Protestant;  Samuel  McCurdy  Greer, 
barrister-at-law  (subsequently  member  for  Derry  County), 
Ulster  Presbyterian ;  and  Frederick  Lucas,  proprietor  and 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  199 

editor  of  the  Tablet,  Catholic.  The  proposal  was  enthusias- 
tically approved  throughout  the  kingdom.  In  every  prov- 
ince and  every  county  there  was,  during  the  early  summer 
months,  but  the  one  subject  of  public  effort,  anxiety,  and  in- 
terest,— the  forthcoming  Tenant  Conference. 

On  the  Gth  of  August,  1850,  a  truly  remarkable  assem- 
blage filled  to  overflowing  the  City  Assembly  House,  William 
Street,  Dublin,  the  use  of  which  was  specially  voted  by  the 
Civic  Council.  The  sharp  Scottish  accent  of  Ulster  mingled 
with  the  broad  Doric  of  Munster.  Presbyterian  ministers 
greeted  "  Popish  priests  with  fraternal  fervor."  Mr.  James 
Godkin,  editor  of  the  stanch  Covenanting  Derry  Standard 
(a  gentleman  whose  signal  literary  abilities  have  been  con- 
sistently devoted  to  the  impartial  service  of  Irish  interests), 
sat  side  by  side  with  John  Francis  Maguire  of  the  Ultramon- 
tane Cork  Examiner.  Magistrates  and  landlords  were  there ; 
while  of  tenant  delegates  every  province  sent  up  a  great 
array.  By  general  acclaim  an  Ulster  Presbyterian  journalist, 
James  McKnight,  LL.D.,*  editor  of  the  Banner  of  Ulster, 
was  voted  to  the  chair.  The  Conference  sat  for  four  days. 
Eesolutions  were  adopted  declaring  that*' a  fair  valuation 
of  rent  between  landlord  and  tenant  in  Ireland  "  was  indis- 
pensable ;  that  "the  tenant  should  not  be  disturbed  in  his 
possession  so  long  as  he  paid  such  rent ; "  and  that  "  the 
tenant  should  have  a  right  to  sell  his  interest  with  all  its  in- 
cidents at  the  highest  market  value." 

Early  in  its  deliberations  the  Conference  was  confronted 
with  a  subject  of  some  difficulty.  During  the  famine  years 
there  had  accrued  all  over  the  country  arrears  of  rent,  which, 
even  where  not  pressed  for  and  made  the  excuse  for  immedi- 
ate eviction,  remained  " on  the  books"  against  the  tenantry, 
hanging  over  them  like  a  sword  of  Damocles.  It  was  felt 

*  It  is  but  a  year  since  Dr.  McKnight  closed  a  long  life  of  honorable 
labor  in  the  service  of  his  co-religionists  and  countrymen  of  Ulster. 
In  learning  and  ability,  as  well  as  in  high  personal  character,  he  stood 
among  the  front  rank  of  Irish  press-men. 


200  NEW  IRELAND. 

that  a  really  wise  national  Government  would  declare  "ar- 
rears "  which  had  thus  accrued — by  a  dreadful  visitation  of 
Providence,  prolonged  through  three  or  four  years — a  public 
burden  to  be  discharged  or  commuted  by  the  State.  The 
Conference  was  clearly  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  vain  try- 
ing to  settle  the  Irish  Land  question  if  by  reason  of  these 
"famine  arrears"  the  whole  tenantry  might  at  any  moment 
be  overwhelmed.  Eventually  this  resolution  was  adopted  : 

"  That  in  any  valuation  which  shall  be  made  before  the  31st  Decem- 
ber,   ,  the  valuators  shall,  on  the  demand  of  either  landlord  or  tenant, 

inquire  into  the  arrears  of  rent  due  by  the  tenant ;  shall  estimate  the 
amount  which  during  the  famine  years  would  have  been  due  and  pay- 
able for  rent  under  a  valuation,  if  such  had  been  made,  according  to 
the  prices  and  circumstances  of  same  years,  and  also  the  amount  which 
during  the  same  period  has  actually  been  paid  for  rent  to  the  land- 
lord ;  shall  award  the  balance,  if  any,  to  be  the  arrears  then  due  ;  and 
that  the  amount  so  awarded  for  arrears  be  payable  by  instalments  at 
such  period  as  shall  be  fixed  by  the  valuators,  and  shall  be  recoverable 
in  all  respects  as  if  it  were  rent." 

On  the  third  day  a  new  organization  was  established, 
called  "  The  Irish  Tenant  League."  On  the  fourth  a  Coun- 
cil was  chosen,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  tAventy  gentle- 
men from  the  four  provinces,  and  the  Conference  separated, 
having  contributed  to  Irish  political  history  within  this 
generation  one  of  its  most  notable  events.  Many  leading 
men  in  England  quickly  realized  the  import  of  what  had 
been  done.  The  Conference  had  barely  closed  its  sittings 
when  Mr.  John  Bright  drew  attention  to  the  subject  in  the 
House  of  Commons : 

"  The  noble  lord  at  the  head  of  the  Government  had  referred  to  a 
few  bills ;  among  the  rest  to  the  Landlord  and  Tenant  Bill.  That 
subject  was  now  a  matter  of  the  first  importance,  not  alone  as  regard- 
ed the  people  of  Ireland,  but  with  regard  to  what  had  just  taken 
place  (hear,  hear).  A  Conference  had  been  sitting  in  Dublin  of  earnest 
men  from  all  parts  of  Ireland  (hear,  hear).  Now,  sir  (continued  the 
honorable  gentleman),  without  agreeing  in  all  that  has  been  said  and 
done  by  that  Conference,  we  cannot  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  of  its 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  201 

importance,  and  that  it  will  be  the  means  of  evoking  a  more  formid- 
able agitation  than  has  been  witnessed  for  many  years  (hear,  hear). 
Instead  of  the  agitation  being  confined,  as  heretofore,  to  the  Roman 
Catholics  and  their  clergy,  Protestant  and  Dissenting  clergymen  seem 
to  be  amalgamated  with  Roman  Catholics  at  present ;  indeed  there 
seems  an  amalgamation  of  all  sects  on  this  question,  and  I  think  it 
time  the  House  should  resolutely  legislate  on  it  (hear,  hear)." 

That  was  August,  1850.  John  Bright  was  before  his  time. 
Twenty  years  subsequently — after  feelings  had  been  embit- 
tered, hopes  betrayed,  homes  wrecked,  families  scattered, 
and  passions  roused  to  fury — the  House  of  Commons  found 
a  minister  of  the  Crown  acting  on  the  advice  thus  tendered 
by  "  the  member  for  Eochdale." 

Through  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1850  the  country 
flung  itself  into  the  new  movement  with  energy,  enthusiasm, 
and  unanimity.  But  a  parliamentary  policy  requires  a 
parliamentary  party  to  carry  it  into  effect,  and  the  Tenant 
League  had  as  yet  no  such  party.  The  Irish  representation, 
of  that  time  was  but  a  miserable  parody  of  reality.  Elected 
in  the  dismal  years  of  famine  and  insurrection,  panic  and 
despair, — when  the  people  recked  as  little  who  scrambled  on 
the  hustings  as  how  the  idle  breezes  blew, — the  Irish  mem- 
bers of  1850  represented  little  more  than  the  personal  views 
and  interests  of  the  individuals  themselves.  The  cowering 
reaction,  the  political  prostration,  that  followed  the  fever  of 
1848,  was  sadly  reflected  in  their  array.  It  was  by  accident 
that  the  League  could  reckon  on  the  support  of  even  half  a 
dozen  men  of  genuine  earnestness  and  sincerity  among  them. 
The  only  hope  of  that  organization  was  that  by  efficient  agi- 
tation they  might  create  a  public  opinion  which  would  at 
the  next  opportunity  send  to  Parliament  men  of  ability  and 
integrity  devoted  to  the  tenant's  cause.  The  Irish  Liberal 
members,  such  as  they  were,  regarded  the  Land  League  with 
no  great  favor.  It  was  plainly  calculated  to  put  them  in  a 
dilemma.  They  believed  in  attaching  themselves  to  the 
official  Liberals  of  Westminster  regions, — to  the  powers  who 
9* 


202  NEW  IRELAND. 

dispensed  patronage  and  pay,  emoluments,  titles,  and  dis- 
tinctions. To  serve  Lord  John  Russell,  to  obey  his  whips, 
until  some  day  a  governorship  of  the  Leeward  Islands  or  an 
embassy  to  Timbuctoo  might  reward  his  patriotism,  was  the 
great  aim  and  purpose  of  an  Irish  Liberal  member  in  those 
days.  But  these  troublesome  tenant-right  fellows  were  go- 
ing on  lines  which  were  incompatible  with  this.  The  ten- 
ant-right demands  were  not  favored  by  the  Government, — 
were  likely  to  be  opposed  by  Lord  John.  What  was  an 
Irish  Liberal  to  do  ?  Break  with  the  ministry,  and  lose 
all  chance  of  a  place, — or  reject  the  tenant-right  shibboleth, 
and  lose  all  chance  of  re-election  ?  The  resolution  taken  by 
most  men  of  this  type  was  to  "  trim ; "  to  hold  with  the 
tenant-righters  as  far  as  was  judiciously  requisite,  but  to 
break  with  the  Treasury  bench  on  no  account. 

There  were  men  in  the  ranks  of  the  League  who  saw  all 
this  ;  who  accurately  measured  and  weighed  the  worth  of 
adhesion  on  the  part  of  such  public  representatives ;  and 
who  rightly  judged  that  the  real  danger  and  weakness  of  the 
popular  movement  would  begin  when  they  affected  to  em- 
brace it. 

Out  of  the  intense  earnestness  of  the  Leaguers — their  soul- 
felt  conviction  that  they  were  fighting  a  life-and-death  strug- 
gle for  the  Irish  race — grew  the  policy  or  doctrine  known  in 
recent  Irish  politics  as  "  Independent  Opposition."  It  de- 
clared that  so  momentous  was  this  issue,  all  others  for  the 
time  must  give  way  to  it,  and  that  to  every  ministry  who  re- 
fused or  hesitated  to  settle  a  question  so  vital  for  Ireland, 
uncompromising  opposition  should  be  given  by  Irish  mem- 
bers. This  doctrine  made  its  appearance  in  1851.  It  was 
the  teaching  of  what  were  called  "  extreme  "  tenant-righters, 
and  was  not  liked  at  all  by  the  old-school  politicians.  The 
idea  of  Irish  Catholic  and  Liberal  members  acting  with  the 
Tory  opposition  under  any  conceivable  circumstances  was 
too  startling  a  novelty  for  them.  Dr.  Cooke  was  not  more 
alarmed  by  the  vision  of  Presbyterian  ministers  co-operat- 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  203 

ing  with  Popish  priests.  Nevertheless,  so  thoroughly  did 
the  public  judgment  eventually  approve  the  proposition  that 
it  became  an  article  of  the  national  faith. 

As  in  a  distant  mountain-tarn  or  valley-stream  we  find  the 
source  of  some  great  river  which  divides  nation  from  nation,  * 
so  here  we  have  the  first  appearance  in  Anglo-Irish  politics 
of  a  policy  which  even  at  the  present  day  separates  the  Irish 
popular  representation  in  Parliament  from  imperial  parties. 
Hitherto  the  policy  and  practice  of  that  body  had  been  to 
attach  themselves  to  and  form  a  portion  of  the  general  "Lib- 
eral party  "  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Tories  were  re- 
garded as  the  "natural  enemies"  of  Catholic  Irishmen,  the 
Whigs  their  only  possible  protectors ;  albeit  these  patrons 
exhibited  betimes  a  rather  contumelious  regard  for  their  Irish 
auxiliaries.  But  now  salus  populi  suprema  lex  est ;  nothing 
that  Whigs  or  Tories  could  do,  short  of  saving  the  people 
from  destruction,  was  to  determine  the  support  or  existence 
of  Irish  representatives. 

While  the  Presbyterian  North  and  Catholic  South  were 
thus  clasping  hands  and  marching  on  side  by  side,  there  burst 
upon  Ireland  a  storm  in  which  they  were  to  be  hopelessly 
sundered.  On  the  4th  of  November,  1850,  Lord  John  Bus- 
sell,  the  Liberal  Premier,  issued  his  celebrated  "Durham 
Letter."  The  organization  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Eng- 
land had  just  been  restored  to  its  parochial  and  diocesan 
form.  The  prelates,  in  place  of  being  "bishops  in  partibus 
infidelium"  were  to  be  bishops  of  the  districts  actually  under 
their  charge,  —  Westminster,  Nottingham,  Liverpool,  or 
Southwark,  as  the  case  might  be.  "  Any  one  can  stir  up  Eng- 
land with  the  Pope  "  used  to  be  said  in  joke.  It  was  now 
proved  to  be  a  fact  in  good  earnest.  The  idea  got  abroad 
that  in  some  way  or  another  this  arrangement  would  derogate 
from  the  Queen's  authority  and  overthrow  the  national  liber- 
ties. "  Brass  money  and  wooden  shoes  "  were  to  be  brought 
back.  The  Pope  was  to  be  installed  at  Windsor  ;  and  the 
worst  days  of  "  Bloody  Mary  "  would  return.  This,  no  doubt, 


204  NEW  IRELAND. 

was  the  sensitiveness,  the  exaggerated  sensitiveness,  of  a 
Protestant  nation  alarmed  by  anything  that  looked  like  the 
re-imposition  of  a  spiritual  authority  it  had  thrown  off.  In 
the  panic  of  the  moment  Englishmen  totally  overlooked  the 
fact  which  subsequently  so  embarrassed  them,  that  in  Ireland 
this  same  parochial  and  diocesan  system  already  prevailed — 
had  never  been  given  up.  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Murray,  the  Cath- 
olic Archbishop  of  Dublin,  had  been  addressed  by  that  title  in 
official  Government  communications,  and  as  such  was  received 
at  court ;  yet  no  one  had  ever  discovered  that  Queen  Victoria 
was  in  danger,  or  the  fabric  of  British  power  shaken  to  its 
base.  When  nations  and  peoples  are  moved  by  panic  or  alarm, 
there  is  an  end  for  the  time  to  reasoning.  There  were  men 
in  England — some  of  its  leading  statesmen — who  realized 
the  absurdity  and  consequent  mischief  of  this  "  No  Popery '' 
cry,  and  who  foresaw  that  in  a  few  years  their  country, 
ashamed  of  its  foolish  fears  and  undignified  passion,  would 
be  undoing  what  it  now  was  rushing  to  do.  There  were 
others  who  "  went  with  the  stream,"  who  saw  that  from  the 
palace  to  the  cottage  the  conviction  had  spread  that  this 
was  "papal  aggression  "  and  must  at  all  hazards  be  resisted 
and  punished.  The  Premier,  the  leader  of  the  Liberal 
party,  in  a  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  gave  the  signal 
for  war,  and  instantly  there  broke  forth  all  over  the  land 
such  a  storm  of  religious  fury  and  strife  as  had  not  been 
known  since  the  days  of  the  Lord  George  Gordon  riots. 
Protestant  and  Catholic  drew  apart, — scowled  and  glowered 
at  each  other  ;  life-long  friendships  were  snapped  ;  neighbor 
was  arrayed  against  neighbor  ;  each  side  imputed  the  most 
desperate  designs  to  the  other,  and  "To  your  tents,  0 
Israel ! "  became  the  cry  on  all  hands. 

Here  was  a  fatal  trial  for  the  Tenant  League,— a  cruel 
blow  to  the  new  companionship  of  Protestant  and  Catholic 
Irishmen  in  effort  for  the  common  good. 

Parliament  opened  on  the  4th  of  February,  1851.  Two 
days  subsequently,  Lord  John  Eussell  introduced  the  Eccle- 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  205 

eiastical  Titles  Bill,  rendering  the  assumption  of  territorial 
titles  by  the  Catholic  bishops  illegal,  and  punishable  with 
heavy  penalties.  On  the  14th  the  Government  were  unable 
to  command  a  majority  of  more  than  fourteen  votes  on  a 
hostile  motion  by  Mr.  Disraeli,*  and  a  "ministerial  crisis" 
ensued.  After  no  less  than  five  ineffectual  attempts  to  form 
a  new  ministry,  the  Whigs  returned  to  office  in  the  first  week 
of  March.  In  the  ensuing  session  the  Ecclesiastical  Titles 
Bill  was  passed  into  law.  During  the  whole  of  that  year  it 
was  the  one  subject  which  occupied  the  public  mind.  When 
the  Parliament  came  to  enact  punishment  for  the  new  ar- 
rangement in  England,  it  was  confronted  by  the  awkward 
fact  that  such  "  ecclesiastical  titles  "  had  always  existed,  and 
had  been  always  recognized,  on  the  western  side  of  St. 
George's  Channel.  What  was  to  be  done?  The  Act  of 
Union  fused  the  Irish  and  English  Protestant  Churches  into 
one  indivisible  and  indissoluble  body, — "  The  United  Church 
of  England  and  Ireland."  If  it  was  an  "aggression"  on 
this  Church  to  have  a  Catholic  bishop  of  Liverpool,  so  must 
it  be  to  have  a  Catholic  bishop  of  Cork.  Yet  what  had  the 
latter  dignitary  done  that  he  should  now  be  punished  for 
using  his  lawful  and  accustomed  designation  ?  What  had 
the  Catholics  of  Ireland  done  to  draw  down  upon  them  this 
penal  law  ?  The  dilemma  was  not  pleasant  for  English 
legislators  ;  but  they  were  not  in  a  mood  to  stop  at  trifles  : 
they  extended  the  act  to  Ireland  ! 

The  Catholic  leaders  in  the  tenant-right  movement  saw 
with  grief  that  an  issue  had  arisen  which  would  surely  dom- 
inate the  Land  question  and  would  split  North  from  South  ; 
yet  throughout  all  this  time  they  manfully  held  on  to  the 

*  "  That  the  severe  distress  which  continues  to  exist  in  the  United 
Kingdom  among  that  important  class  of  her  Majesty's  subjects  the 
owners  and  occupiers  of  land,  and  which  is  justly  lamented  in  her 
Majesty's  speech,  renders  it  the  duty  of  ministors  to  introduce  without 
delay  such  measures  as  may  be  most  effectual  for  the  relief  thereof." 
Ayes,  2G7  ;  noes,  281. 


206  NEW  IRELAND. 

platform  on  which  Protestant  and  Catholic  had  vowed  to 
unite.  On  Friday,  the  20th  of  February,  1852,  the  Whig 
ministry  were  defeated  by  a  majority  of  eleven  on  their 
Militia  Bill.  Lord  Derby  took  office  as  head  of  a  Tory  ad- 
ministration, and  announced  that  Parliament  would  be  dis- 
solved in  the  approaching  summer. 

A  shout  of  exultation  arose  in  Ireland.  Here  was  the 
opportunity  for  the  League, — the  general  election  for  which 
they  had  so  long  prayed  and  waited  !  With  a  fierce  energy 
the  tenant-righters  flung  themselves  into  the  struggle.  Since 
1829  no  such  desperate  efforts  had  been  put  forth.  All  the 
earthly  hopes  of  the  Irish  people  seemed  fixed  on  the  return 
of  an  honest  and  independent  Irish  party  to  Parliament,  so 
that  the  work  of  "the  Crowbar  Brigade  "  might  be  arrested 
and  tenant  homesteads  be  saved  from  confiscation  and  ruin. 
There  was  no  "  vote  by  ballot "  then  ;  and  the  hapless  tenant 
who  went  against  the  landlord's  candidate  dared  certain  doom. 
As  it  turned  out,  a  civil  war  could  scarcely  have  brought 
heavier  penalties  on  the  people  than  those  which  followed 
upon  this  general  election  of  1852. 

At  the  close  of  the  polls  some  fifty  tenant-right  members 
— men  professing  allegiance  to  the  principles  of  the  League, 
and  elected  on  such  professions — were  seated  for  Irish  constit- 
uencies. In  the  first  flush  of  popular  joy  and  triumph  over 
this  result,  no  one  ventured  to  sift  the  so-called  gains  and 
speculate  how  many  of  these  men  were  sincere  and  how  many 
had  shouted  with  the  people  only  to  betray  their  confidence. 
A  goodly  stride,  however,  had  undoubtedly  been  taken  to- 
ward reforming  the  personnel  of  the  Irish  popular  represen- 
tation. Among  the  men  who  entered  Parliament  for  the 
first  time  on  this  occasion  were  the  two  to  whose  genius  and 
abilities,  fidelity  and  devotion,  the  League  was  most  largely 
indebted, — Charles  Gavan  Duffy  and  Frederick  Lucas.  AVith 
them  there  also  appeared  John  Francis  Maguire,  Patrick 
M'Mahon,  Tristram  Kennedy,  Hi  chard  Swift,  John  Brady, 
and  others  whose  names  have  since  become  more  or  less 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  207 

familiar  in  Irish  politics.  A  Liberal-Conservative,  who  had 
previously  sat  for  Harwich,  was  returned  for  the  borough  of 
Youghal,  and  is  thus  referred  to  in  the  Nation  of  the  17th 
of  July,  1852  : 

"  In  Youghal,  Isaac  Butt,  the  Irishman,  has  beaten  Fortescue,  the 
son  of  an  English  Whip  peer.  We  are  delighted  that  Mr.  Butt  sits  in 
an  Irish  seat.  Though  he  be  a  Conservative,  his  heart  is  genuinely 
Irish,  and  as  a  man  of  noble  talents  he  is  an  honor  to  his  country. " 

All  over  the  island  there  was  rejoicing.  Ireland,  turning 
from  theories  of  physical  force  and  insurrection,  was  now  to 
see  what  constitutional  effort  could  do.  In  August,  1852, 
the  tenant-right  movement  was  at  the  zenith  of  its  power. 
How  it  fell,  how  it  was  overthrown,  can  best  be  told  in  the 
story  which  traces  the  romantic  and  tragic  career  of  John 
Sadleir. 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 

"THE  BRASS  BAND." 

THE  destruction  of  the  popular  movement  of  1850-1852, 
completing  as  it  did  the  overthrow  of  popular  confidence  in 
constitutional  politics,  led  to  consequences  utterly  deplor- 
able. Indissolubly  associated  in  the  gloomy  memories  of 
that  time  are  the  names  of  John  Sadleir  and  William 
Keogh. 

John  Sadleir  was  born  in  Tipperary  some  sixty  years  ago. 
Among  the  few  Catholic  families  of  position  in  that  county, 
the  Scullys  and  the  Sadleirs  held  a  good  place,  the  first- 
named  especially,  and  in  the  last  generation  the  two  had 
been  linked  by  marriage.  At  an  early  age  young  John  was 
apprenticed  to  a  solicitor,  and  in  due  time  entered  upon 
practice  in  that  branch  of  the  law.  He  was  early  distin- 
guished for  abilities  even  beyond  those  called  forth  in  his 
profession,  and  for  an  ambition  that  could  not  fail  to  lead 
him  eventually  to  some  high  position.  He  decided  to  make 
for  the  great  metropolis,  where  a  wide  field  was  open  to  such 
talents  as  he  commanded.  In  London  he  pursued  the  spe- 
cial avocation  of  "  parliamentary  agent, '?  and,  what  with 
his  Irish  connection  and  his  masterly  skill,  he  rose  rap- 
idly. He  soon  soared  higher  and  entered  the  circles  of 
finance ;  his  clear  vision  had  discerned  a  road  to  results  it 
would  have  seemed  madness  just  then  to  mention.  His  fam- 
ily— the  Sadleirs  and  Scullys  and  Keatinges — were  moneyed 
men,  and  were  widely  known  as  such  throughout  his  native 
county.  Seeing  what  he  could  do  with  money  in  the  great 
world  of  London,  and  well  knowing  that  the  Irish  banking 

208 


"  THE  BRAS8  BAND."  209 

systems  had  not  yet  been  brought  to  the  doors  of  the  people 
so  as  to  tap  the  humble  hoards  of  the  farming-classes,  he  de 
termined  to  set  up  a  local  bank  ;  and  so  the  "  Tipperary 
Joint- Stock  Bank"  was  established.  It  became  a  great  suc- 
cess. Wherever  a  branch  was  set  up  it  supplanted  that  ven- 
erable institution  the  "  old  stocking"  as  a  receptacle  for  sav- 
ings or  depository  of  marriage-portions.  From  the  Shannon 
to  the  Suir,  "  Sadleir's  bank  "  was  regarded  with  as  much 
confidence  as  "  the  old  lady  of  Threadncedle  Street"  com- 
mands from  her  votaries.  Yet,  from  what  I  could  ever 
learn,  it  performed  only  half  the  functions  of  a  bank.  It 
received  all ;  it  lent  little.  John,  in  fact,  had  other  use  for 
the  money  in  London  besides  lending  it  to  Paddy  Ryan  to 
buy  cattle,  or  Tom  Dwyer  to  drain  his  land.  He  was  rising 
hand  over  hand,  among  the  highest  and  boldest  of  specula- 
tive financiers.  The  time  came  for  a  new  step  in  his  ambi- 
tious scheme.  Public  life  was  to  play  its  part  in  his  designs. 
The  imperial  Parliament  was  to  supply  him  with  an  arena 
for  distinction.  Not  only  would  he  enter  it,  but,  deter- 
mined to  become  a  power  therein,  he  would  surround  him- 
self with  a  family  band,  as  the  nucleus  of  a  party  of  which 
he  should  be  leader.  Amidst  the  gloom  of  the  famine-years 
he  found  the  opportunity  for  effecting  this  portion  of  his 
scheme.  In  the  general  election  of  1847  he  was  returned  for 
the  borough  of  Carlow  ;  his  cousin  Robert  Keatinge  for  Wa- 
terford  County ;  and  his  cousin  Frank  Scully  for  Tipperary. 
In  1850  he  occupied  an  enviable  position.  The  repute  of 
his  wealth,  the  extent  of  his  influence,  above  all,  the  worship 
of  his  success,  was  on  every  lip.  Whatever  he  took  in  hand 
succeeded ;  whatever  he  touched  turned  to  gold.  He  was, 
every  one  said,  one  of  your  eminently  practical  politicians  ; 
no  mere  agitator,  but  a  man  of  sagacity  and  prudence,  whose 
name  alone  guaranteed  the  soundness  of  a  scheme  or  the  wis- 
dom of  a  suggestion.  He  was  a  decided  Liberal  and  an  ar- 
dent Catholic,  and  very  soon  made  his  mark  among  the  Irish 
members. 


210  NEW  IRELAND. 

Side  by  side  with  him,  in  the  same  year,  there  entered 
Parliament,  for  the  borough  of  Athlone,  a  man  equally  re- 
markable in  his  own  way, — Mr.  William  Keogh.  Although 
some  mysterious  affinity  seemed  to  bring  the  men  together, 
and  linked  them  in  a  joint  career,  they  were  dissimilar  as 
possible  in  many  respects.  Mr.  Keogh  was  a  barrister-at- 
law,  but,  unlike  Sadleir,  had  been  no  success  at  his  profes- 
sion,— though  not  for  want  of  splendid  abilities.  The  one 
man  was  a  model  of  financial  punctuality  and  business  exact- 
ness ;  the  other  certainly  was  not.  Mr.  Sadleir  was  a  man 
of  few  words,  strict  and  stern,  reserved,  and  almost  senten- 
tious ;  Mr.  Keogh  was  the  life  and  soul  of  every  circle  in 
which  he  moved,  ever  brimming  over  with  animal  spirits, 
full  of  bonhommie,  sparkling  with  wit,  and  abounding  with 
jovial  good  nature.  He  was  a  most  persuasive  speaker.  His 
voice  was  rich,  powerful,  and  capable  of  every  inflection. 
His  manner  was  intensely  earnest.  His  social  qualities,  his 
intellectual  gifts,  made  him  a  universal  favorite.  Yet  from 
the  very  first,  despite  his  emotional  patriotism  and  captivat- 
ing eloquence,  there  were  people  who  doubted  his  political 
sincerity.  His  whole  position  and  circumstances,  to  their 
minds,  too  obviously  suggested  that  the  prize  of  public  life 
for  him  must  be  some  gift  from  the  hand  of  the  Govern- 
ment adequate  as  the  price  of  such  a  convert. 

The  outburst  of  the  "  Papal  Aggression  "  storm  in  Eng- 
land was  hailed  with  very  different  feelings  by  the  Sadleir 
group  and  by  the  Tenant  League  leaders.  The  latter  had 
just  built  up  a  platform  of  united  action  for  Protestant  and 
Catholic  Irishmen,  and  here  had  this  fatal  issue  come  to 
rend  them  asunder.  The  former  saw  with  joy  that  in  this 
new  agitation,  which  bade  fair  to  extinguish  the  League, 
they  could  get  the  country  completely  into  their  own  hands. 
England  went  wild  with  "No  Popery"  fanaticism  ;  Ireland 
was  aflame  with  alarm  and  passion.  Protestant  and  Catholic 
were  daily  becoming  more  and  more  hopelessly  antagonized. 
The  Catholics  in  the  Tenant  League  strove  manfully  to  make 


"  TEE  BEA8S  BAND."  211 

head  against  the  current.  A  proposition  to  establish  a 
"Catholic  Defense  Association"  was  openly  opposed  by 
Duffy  in  the  Nation.  In  the  flames  of  religious  bigotry, 
he  said,  the  hopes  of  Ireland  would  perish.  Knaves  and 
hypocrites,  he  declared,  would  rant  and  rave  as  tremendous 
Catholics,  and  lash  the  multitude  into  madness  about  "  Our 
holy  Church,"  in  order  that  they  might  effect  the  destruc- 
tion of  a  popular  movement  which  threatened  to  sweep  away 
speculative  politicians.  We  shall  not  serve  the  Church  the 
more,  he  prophesied,  but  we  shall  lose  the  Land.  He  pleaded 
in  vain.  Challenged  as  the  Irish  Catholics  were  by  the  penal 
legislation  of  Lord  John  Russell's  Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill, 
it  was  not  in  human  nature  to  lie  still  and  take  no  measures 
for  defensive  warfare.  John  Sadleir  and  his  party  sprang 
into  the  front  rank  of  the  Catholic  defense  movement.  The 
Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill  was  encountered  with  the  most  de- 
termined opposition.  "  The  Pope's  Brass  Band,"  the  Eng- 
lish press  called  the  score  of  Irish  Liberals  who  fought  the 
bill  so  vehemently  ;  "the  Irish  Brigade,"  they  were  proudly 
and  fondly  designated  at  home.  Their  conduct  was  the 
theme  of  praise  by  Irish  Catholic  firesides.  Blessings  were 
invoked  on  those  devoted  and  heroic  men,  the  brave  defenders 
of  the  Catholic  religion  ;  but,  above  all,  benedictions  were 
showered  on  the  most  defiant  and  dauntless,  the  most  able 
and  eloquent  of  the  band, — Mr.  William  Keogh. 

The  obnoxious  bill  was  passed.  The  "  Brigade  "  returned 
home  to  receive  a  nation's  gratitude.  A  worthless  array, 
verily,  were  they,  for  the  most  part.  Some  few,  unquestion- 
ably, were  men  of  high  principle  and  sterling  honesty; 
others  were  mere  political  hacks,  sordid  and  selfish  ;  while 
the  Sadleir  group,  skillful,  eloquent,  influential,  now  virtu- 
ally masters  of  the  situation,  were  playing  a  bold  and  ambi- 
tious game. 

On  Tuesday,  23d  of  August,  1851,  an  aggregate  meeting 
of  the  Catholics  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  was  held  in 
the  Rotunda,  Dublin,  to  protest  against  the  Titles  Bill  and  to 


212  NEW  IRELAND. 

take  measures  for  Catholic  defense.  The  Most  Rev.  Dr. 
Cullen,  at  that  time  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  filled  the  chair. 
There  was  a  great  array  of  Catholic  bishops  and  clergy,  as 
well  as  of  Catholic  noblemen  and  members  of  Parliament. 
Mr.  John  Sadleir,'  M.P.,  was  one  of  the  honorary  secretaries 
to  the  meeting ;  his  cousin  Mr.  Vincent  Scully  was  one  of 
the  speakers,  and  Mr.  W.  Keogh,  M.P.,  was  another.  The 
latter  gentleman  delighted  the  assemblage  by  his  eloquent 
denunciation  of  the  Penal  Act,  which  had  just  received  the 
royal  assent.  He,  for  one,  would  trample  on  and  defy  the 
law.  He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  copy  of  the  new  statute, 
and,  holding  it  forth,  said,  "  I  now,  as  one  of  her  Majesty's 
counsel,  holding  the  act  of  Parliament  in  my  hand,  unhesi- 
tatingly give  his  proper  title  to  the  Lord  Archbishop  of 
Armagh."  He  then  went  on  to  promise  that  he  and  his 
friends  would  have  the  hostile  act  repealed  if  the  people 
of  Ireland  would  but  send  them  a  few  more  parliamentary 
colleagues.  "  We  will  have  no  terms,"  said  he,  "  with  any 
minister,  no  matter  who  he  may  be,  until  he  repeals  that  act 
of  Parliament,  and  every  other  which  places  the  Roman 
Catholic  on  a  lower  platform  than  his  Protestant  fellow- 
subject.  " 

Despite  the  marked  favor  which  they  had  won  from  the 
Catholic  prelates,  clergy,  and  people,  and  notwithstanding 
the  violence  of  their  protestations,  Messrs.  Sadleir  and  Keogh 
were  the  objects  of  suspicion  and  mistrust  on  the  part  of  a 
few  keen  observers  of  passing  affairs  in  Ireland.  It  was 
noted  that  Lord  Aberdeen,  Sir  James  Graham,  Mr.  Sidney 
Herbert,  Mr.  Cardwell,  and  many  leading  Peelites  had  re- 
sisted the  "No  Popery"  scare  in  England,  and  had  fought 
against  the  Titles  Bill  in  Parliament,  Among  these  states- 
men, accurately  enough,  some  persons  saw  a  possible  cabinet 
of  the  future,  and  already  some  idea  that  the  Sadleir  group 
were  operating  in  view  of  such  a  contingency  was  whispered 
about.  A  base  calumny,  a  cruel  suspicion,  an  assassin  stab, 
Mr.  Keogh  proclaimed  it  to  be.  The  three  leading  popular 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  213 

journalists  of  Ireland — Mr.  Duffy,  of  the  Nation,  Dr.  Gray, 
of  the  Freeman,  and  Mr.  Lucas,  of  the  Tablet — were  very 
plainly  imbued  with  some  such  conviction,  and  between  them 
and  the  Sadleir  party  a  deadly  dislike  smoldered.  The 
latter,  however,  were  the  popular  idols  of  the  hour.  On  the 
28th  of  October,  1851,  Mr.  Keogh  was  entertained  by  his 
constituents  at  a  public  banquet,  which  partook  rather  of  the 
character  of  a  national  demonstration.  No  hall  in  Athlone 
was  large  enough  to  accommodate  the  gathering,  which  was 
held  in  a  huge  pavilion,  erected,  I  believe,  on  the  cathedral 
grounds.  The  guest  of  the  evening,  after  an  effusive  eulo- 
gium  on  Archbishop  MacHale,  who  was  present,  alluded  to 
the  insinuations  above  referred  to.  In  language  the  earnest- 
ness and  solemnity  of  which  touched  every  heart  he  repelled 
them.  "Whigs  or  Tories,"  said  he,  "  Peelites  or  Protec- 
tionists, are  all  the  same  to  me.  I  will  fight  for  my  religion 
and  my  country,  scorning  and  defying  calumny.  I  declare, 
in  the  most  solemn  manner,  before  this  august  assembly,  I 
shall  not  regard  any  party.  I  know  that  the  road  I  take 
does  not  lead  to  preferment.  I  do  not  belong  to  the  "Whigs  ; 
I  do  not  belong  to  the  Tories.  Here,  in  the  presence  of  my 
constituents  and  my  country, — and  I  hope  I  am  not  so  base 
a  man  as  to  make  an  avowal  which  could  be  contradicted 
to-morrow  if  I  was  capable  of  doing  that  which  is  insinuated 
against  me, — I  solemnly  declare  if  there  was  a  Peelite  ad- 
ministration in  office  to-morrow  it  would  be  nothing  to  me. 
I  will  not  support  any  party  which  does  not  make  it  the  first 
ingredient  of  their  political  existence  to  repeal  the  Ecclesi- 
astical Titles  Act."  In  like  solemn  manner  he  pledged  his 
troth  that  he  would  oppose,  or  not  support,  any  party  which 
did  not  undertake  to  settle  the  Land  question  and  abolish 
the  Established  Church.  Finally,  he  turned  at  the  Irish 
landlords,  whom  he  denounced  as  "a  heartless  aristocracy," 
— "the  most  heartless,  the  most  thriftless,  and  the  most  in- 
defensible landocracy  on  the  face  of  the  earth." 

Those  who  were  present  say  that  no  one  who  heard  the 


214  NEW  IRELAND. 

speaker,  and  looked  into  his  face,  as,  glowing  with  indigna- 
tion, he  made  these  protestations,  could  have  been  so  unfeel- 
ing as  to  doubt  him.  Doubted,  nay,  openly  denounced,  he 
and  the  rest  of  the  Sadleir  following  nevertheless  were  in  the 
Nation  and  Tablet,  Lucas  and  Duffy  having  thus  early  re- 
ceived some  private  proofs  that  the  Brigade  meant  to  be  in 
the  market  on  the  first  favorable  opportunity.  Early  in  1852 
a  vacancy  occurred  in  Cork  County,  and  another  of  Mr. 
Sadleir's  cousins,  Mr.  V.  Scully,  appeared  as  a  candidate. 
The  more  honest  and  keen-sighted  of  the  Tenant  League 
party  in  the  locality  did  not  take  very  kindly  to  him,  but 
Mr.  Keogh  went  down  specially  to  campaign  for  him,  and 
the  full  strength  of  the  Sadleir  party  was  put  forth.  There 
was  a  public  meeting  in  Cork  city  on  the  8th  of  March, 
1852,  to  consider  the  merits  of  the  Liberal  candidates,  and 
Mr.  McCarthy  Downing — whose  public  influence,  in  at  all 
events  the  West  Riding,  was  admitted  to  be  paramount — 
seeing  Mr.  Keogh  present,  boldly  "belled  the  cat"  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  I  will  tell  the  meeting  fairly  and  honestly  that  I  believe  the  Irish 
Brigade  are  not  sincere  advocates  of  the  tenant-right  question.  I  state 
that,  and  I  believe  it  is  in  the  presence  of  two  of  them.  I  attended 
two  great  meetings  in  the  Music  Hall  in  Dublin,  at  the  inauguration  of 
the  Tenant  League,  at  my  own  expense,  when  a  deputation  waited 
upon  the  Brigade  to  attend  the  meeting,  and  I  protest  I  never  saw  a 
beast  drawn  to  the  slaughter-house  by  the  butcher  to  receive  the 
knife  with  more  difficulty  than  there  was  in  bringing  to  that  meeting 
the  members  of  the  Irish  Brigade." 

Then  up  rose  Mr.  Keogh ;  and  never,  perhaps,  were  his 
marvelous  gifts  more  requisite  than  at  this  critical  moment. 
The  future  fate  and  fortunes  of  his  leader  and  party  hung 
on  the  turn  affairs  might  take  at  this  meeting,  an  open  chal- 
lenge and  public  charge  having  been  thus  flung  down  against 
them.  There  were  a  few  hostile  cries  when  he  stood  up ; 
but  silence  was  after  a  while  obtained.  With  flushed  coun- 
tenance and  heaving  breast,  he  burst  forth  in  these  words  : 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  215 

"  Great  God  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "in  this  assemblage  of  Irish- 
men have  you  found  that  those  who  are  most  ready  to  take 
every  pledge  have  been  the  most  sincere  in  perseverance  to 
the  end,  or  have  you  not  rather  seen  that  they  who,  like 
myself,  went  into  Parliament  perfectly  unpledged,  not  sup- 
ported by  the  popular  voice,  but  in  the  face  of  popular  ac- 
claim, when  the  time  for  trial  comes  are  not  found  wanting  ? 
I  declared  myself  in  the  presence  of  the  bishops  of  Ireland, 
and  of  my  colleagues  in  Parliament,  that  let  the  minister  of 
the  day  be  who  he  may — let  him  be  the  Earl  of  Derby,  let 
him  be  Sir  James  Graham,  or  Lord  John  Eussell — it  was  all 
the  same  to  us ;  and  so  help  me  God,  no  matter  who  the 
minister  may  be,  no  matter  who  the  party  in  power  may  be, 
I  will  support  neither  that  minister  nor  that  party,  unless  he 
comes  into  power  prepared  to  carry  the  measures  which  uni- 
versal popular  Ireland  demands.  I  have  abandoned  my  own 
profession  to  join  in  cementing  and  forming  an  Irish  parlia- 
mentary party.  That  has  been  my  ambition.  It  may  be  a  base 
one,  I  think  it  an  honorable  one.  I  have  seconded  the  prop- 
osition of  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
I  have  met  the  minister  upon  it  to  the  utmost  extent  of  my 
limited  abilities,  at  a  moment  when  disunion  was  not  ex- 
pected. So  help  me  God  !  upon  that  and  every  other  ques- 
tion to  which  I  have  given  my  adhesion,  I  will  be — and  I 
know  I  may  say  that  every  one  of  my  friends  is  as  deter- 
mined as  myself — an  unflinching,  undeviating,  unalterable 
supporter  of  it." 

No  wonder  the  assemblage  that  had  listened  as  if  spell- 
bound while  he  spoke,  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  with  vocifer- 
ous cheering  atoned  for  the  previous  doubts  of  the  man 
whose  oath  had  now  sealed  his  public  principles.  Alas  ! 
barely  nine  months  later  on  he  went  over  bodily  to  the  min- 
ister of  the  day,  and  took  office  under  an  administration 
which  neither  repealed  the  Titles  Act,  abolished  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  nor  settled  the  Land  question! 

John  Sadleir  had  marked  well  the  power  wielded  against 


216  NEW  IRELAND. 

him  by  Duffy,  Gray,  and  Lucas  in  the  metropolitan  press. 
The  opposition  of  the  Nation,  the  Freeman,  and  the  Tablet 
alone  seemed  to  stand  between  him  and  the  complete  com- 
mand of  Irish  popular  politics.  The  Catholic  bishops, 
almost  to  a  man,  and  the  great  majority  of  the  priests,  be- 
lieved confidently  in  him  and  Mr.  Keogh,  and  regarded  the 
suggested  suspicions  or  open  imputations  of  the  Nation  and 
Tablet  as  the  mischievous  hostility  of  extreme  and  violent 
politicians.  Still  it  was  highly  dangerous  for  him  to  go 
forward  with  these  three  fortresses  unreduced  on  his  flank. 
He  determined  to  silence  them  effectually, — to  destroy  them. 
By  this  time  he  had  become  almost  a  millionaire.  Fifty 
thousand  pounds  flung  boldly  into  the  establishment  of  op- 
position journals  would  soon  dispose  of  the  Nation,  Tablet, 
and  Freeman.  Ere  long  Dublin  rang  with  the  news  that  a 
gigantic  newspaper  scheme  was  being  launched,  "regardless 
of  expense,"  by  Mr.  Sadleir.  The  leader  of  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade, the  Defender  of  the  Church,  the  man  of  success,  had 
now  decided  to  break  ground  in  a  new  direction,  and  estab- 
lish a  real,  genuine,  orthodox  Catholic  press  for  the  million. 
Commodious  premises  were  taken  ;  powerful  machinery  and 
extensive  plant  were  purchased  ;  and  an  editor,  who  was  given 
out  to  be  a  sort  of  lay  pontiff,  Mr.  William  Bernard  McCabe, 
was  brought  over  from  London.  The  new  weekly,  called 
the  Weekly  Telegraph,  was  first  to  clear  the  ground  of  the  Na- 
tion and  Tablet,  before  the  new  daily  tackled  the  Freeman. 
Perhaps  ere  that  time  Dr.  Gray,  intimidated  by  the  beggary 
brought  on  Duffy  and  Lucas,  would  knock  under  to  the 
great  power  of  Sadleirism.  If  not,  he  too  could  be  mopped 
out. 

Never  was  there  a  more  daring  and  comprehensive  design 
to  bring  the  whole  popular  opinion  and  political  influence  of 
a  country  into  the  grasp  of  one  bold  and  ambitious  man. 

The  Telegraph  was  issued  at  half  the  price  of  the  existing 
Catholic  weeklies, — threepence  ;  and,  as  money  was  literally 
lavished  on  its  production  and  dissemination,  it  went  broad- 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  217 

cast  through  the  land.  It  pandered  to  the  fiercest  bigotry. 
Its  "catholicity"  was  of  that  bellicose  and  extravagant  char- 
acter which  was  deemed  best  calculated  at  a  time  of  such 
wide-spread  religious  animosities  to  delight  and  excite  the 
masses.  It  swept  the  island.  It  penetrated  into  hamlets  and 
homes  where  the  Nation  or  the  Tablet  had  never  been  seen. 
The  editor,  a  gentleman  of  great  ability,  contrived  to  make 
his  readers  believe  that  the  Pope  and  John  Sadleir  were  the 
two  great  authorities  of  the  Catholic  Church  :  one  was  its 
infallible  head,  the  other  its  invincible  defender.  But  those 
bad  Catholics,  Duffy  and  Lucas,  were  thwarting  the  noble 
efforts  of  Mr.  Sadleir  and  his  devoted  colleagues  to  serve  the 
Church  ;  as  for  Gray,  of  the  Freeman,  he  was  a  heretic,  and 
nothing  but  evil  could  emanate  from  him.  The  newspaper 
move  of  the  banker-politician,  however,  was  a  little  over- 
reaching. It  set  a  great  many  persons  a  thinking,  and 
alarmed  not  a  few.  As  for  the  Nation  and  Tablet,  they  bore 
the  shock  of  attack  bravely  in  spirit,  but  neither  proprietor 
had  a  bank  at  his  back,  and  both  journals  were  almost  fatally 
crippled  in  the  unequal  struggle. 

In  the  spring  of  1852 — on  the  2d  of  April — the  Most 
Eev.  Dr.  Cullen,  for  a  short  time  previously  Archbishop  of 
Armagh,  was,  by  the  all  but  unanimous  vote  of  the  clergy, 
nominated  for  the  archbishopric  of  Dublin.  The  nomination 
was  cordially  approved  at  Rome,  and  there  entered  on  his 
new  sphere  of  duties  a  man  who  has  ever  since  played  an  im- 
portant part  in  Irish  affairs.  He  had  spent  the  greater  part 
of  his  clerical  life  in  Italy,  and  for  many  years  had  been 
Rector  of  the  Irish  College  in  Rome.  He  early  gained  the 
special  confidence  and  favor  of  Cardinal  Barnabo,  Prefect  of 
the  Propaganda,  and  was  very  warmly  esteemed  by  Pio  Nono 
himself.  His  manhood  was  largely  passed,  his  principles 
were  formed,  in  an  atmosphere  quite  unlike  that  of  Ireland. 
In  Italy  popular  politics  and  national  aspirations  were  made 
synonymous  with  principles  and  designs  very  naturally  ab- 
horrent to  him.  All  the  bent  of  his  mind  was  with  authority, 
10 


218  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  against  resistance  to  the  constituted  powers.  He  had 
seen  the  evil  work  which  revolutionism  had  wrought  else- 
where, and  there  was  but  the  one  safe  road,  he  thought,  for 
him  to  take, — namely,  to  beware  of  all  who  inclined  to  tumult, 
violence,  or  sedition,  and  to  side  with  those  who  put  the  in- 
terests of  the  Catholic  religion  before  and  beyond  every  other. 
There  never  entered  upon  the  duties  of  such  an  important 
position  as  his  a  man  more  single-minded,  more  devoid  of 
personal  ambition  or  thought  of  self,  more  wholly  wrapped 
in  the  one  great  purpose  of  advancing  the  interests  of  the 
Church.  He  was  a  stern  disciplinarian,  and  it  soon  became 
evident  that  he  had  been  chosen  at  Home  for  a  great  and  far- 
reaching  purpose  of  disciplinary  transformation  in  Irish  Cath- 
olic affairs.  Self-denying  himself,  he  expected  self-denial 
from  all  who  served  the  altar ;  obedient,  full  of  reverence  for 
authority,  he  considered  obedience  the  first  duty  of  a  cleric. 
He  might  have  been  one  of  the  early  Fathers,  transferred 
from  the  fifth  to  the  nineteenth  century.  His  cold  exterior, 
his  passionless  manner,  his  severe  ideas  of  authority  and  dis- 
cipline, did  not  fit  well  the  Irish  character,  customs,  and  habits. 
He  was  more  Roman  than  Irish,  and  his  design  of  bringing 
the  Irish  Church  into  stricter  conformity  to  the  Eoman  model 
necessarily  invaded  many  old  feelings  and  incurred  for  him 
not  a  few  conflicts  among  the  Irish  clergy.  "A  gloomy 
fanatic,"  "  a  narrow-minded  churchman,"  the  ultra-Protes- 
tant journals  early  declared  him  to  be  ;  and  even  his  own 
people,  owing  to  the  stern  gravity  of  his  manner  and  the  aus- 
terity of  his  piety,  regarded  him  more  with  respectful  awe  than 
warm  affection.  Yet  in  all  this  only  one  side  of  his  eharac- 
ter  was  read,  and  justice  was  not  done  his  inner  nature, 
which  was  kindly,  and  often  generous.  He  could  unbend 
betimes,  and  few  could  exhibit  a  readier  appreciation  for 
genuine  wit  or  humor.*  Yet  a  certain  air  of  reserve  and 

*Many  stories  circulate  in  Dublin,  some  of  questionable  authenticity, 
as  to  his  adventures  in  those  early  reforming  days.  He  resided  for  some 
time  with  the  parochial  clergy  in  the  presbytery  attached  to  the  pro- 


"  THE  BRA8S  BAND."  219 

monasticism  always  surrounded  him  ;  and  one  could  see  that 
he  looked  out  on  all  the  world  from  the  stand-point  of  a 
churchman. 

Dr.  Cullen  almost  inevitably  gravitated  toward  the  Sad- 
leir  party  as  the  special  champions  of  the  Church,  and  away 
from  those  who  looked  to  such  a  dangerous  paper  as  the  Na- 
tion for  guidance.  He  knew  what "  Young  Italy  "  meant ;  and 
"Young  Ireland"  he  believed  to  be  an  imitation  of  the 
Italian  party.  Nor  was  he  without  grounds  for  such  an  im- 
pression. The  writers  in  the  Nation  at  one  time  warmly 
wrote  up  Mazzini  and  his  co-laborers  of  the  Carbonari, — a 
position,  however,  soon  after  publicly  and  emphatically 
abandoned  by  Mr.  Duffy  and  repudiated  by  his  successors. 
Still,  it  was  not  difficult  for  Mr.  Sadleir's  ecclesiastical 
friends  to  persuade  the  new  archbishop  that  the  men  who 

cathedral  in  Marlborough  Street.  He  soon  established  a  rule  that  every 
one  not  on  sick-visitation  duty  should  be  within-doors  by  ten  o'clock  at 
night.  The  ten-o'clock  rule  was  by  degrees  a  little  infringed,  whenever 
the  curates  were  spending,  as  was  their  wont,  an  evening  with  some 
friendly  family  in  the  neighborhood.  The  archbishop  imagined  he  oc- 
casionally heard  footsteps  creeping  cautiously  up-stairs  long  after  "  ten 
o'clock,"  and  one  evening,  to  the  consternation  of  the  reverend  father 
whose  turn  it  was  to  lock  up,  he  announced  his  intention  of  perform- 
ing this  duty  himself.  "Go  up  to  bed,  Father  John,"  said  he,  in 
tones  of  sympathy :  "  you  look  a  little  fatigued.  I'll  wait  for  whoever 
is  out."  In  vain  Father  John  declared  he  was  not  tired  ;  in  fact,  he 
felt  quite  fresh,  so  to  speak,  and  waiting  up  a  little  would  do  him  all 
the  good  in  the  world.  The  archbishop  would  have  his  way  ;  and 
Father  John  went  off  to  his  room  muttering  of  the  catastrophe  that 
awaited  two  of  his  friends  who  were  sure  not  to  be  in  before  eleven.  It 
was  past  this  hour  when  they  tapped  softly  at  the  big  door,  which  was 
cautiously  opened  from  within.  One  of  them,  putting  in  his  head,  in- 
quired in  a  whisper,  "  Is  Paul  in  bed  ?"  "  No,"  said  the  archbishop 
in  a  similar  whisper,  "  he's  here."  Laughing  heartily  at  their  confu- 
sion, he  let  them  in,  locked  the  door,  and,  wishing  them  good-night, 
told  them  to  go  to  bed.  To  their  amazement,  the  archbishop  next 
morning  acted  as  if  the  incident  had  never  occurred  ;  and  when  at 
length  the  story  got  about,  none  enjoyed  it  more  mirthfully  than  he 
did. 


220  NEW  IRELAND. 

preferred  a  Tenant  League  to  a  Catholic  Defense  Associa- 
tion, and  who  advocated  a  union  of  Protestants  and  Catholics 
in  public  affairs,  were  the  heterodox  party ;  while  Messrs. 
Sadleir  and  Keogh  were  the  friends  of  order  and  the  defend- 
ers of  religion.  In  the  events  which  were  now  at  hand, 
this  attitude  of  the  Catholic  archbishop  of  Dublin  was  of 
decisive  importance. 

Parliament  was  dissolved  on  the  1st  of  July,  and  the  efforts 
of  the  past  six  months  culminated  on  the  hustings.  There 
were  four  parties  engaged  in  the  combat  :  the  Tories, — who 
fought  "solid,"  as  they  always  do ;  the  Whigs ;  the  Tenant 
Leaguers ;  and  the  Catholic  Defenders.  In  several  places 
the  latter  two  came  into  open  conflict ;  and  generally  it  was 
evident  that  the  Whigs,  the  Catholic  Defense  people,  and  the 
Brigade  men  were  one  and  the  same  party.  Nevertheless, 
when  the  lists  were  closed,  it  was  found  that  the  Leaguers 
had  virtually  carried  the  island.  No  Catholic  Defense  Whig 
was  able  to  secure  his  return  without  taking  the  Tenant- 
Right  pledge ;  while  in  nearly  every  place  the  League  candi- 
dates triumphed.  Their  only  important  defeat  was  in  Mona- 
ghan,  where  Dr.  Gray  was  narrowly  beaten.  Frederick 
Lucas  was  returned  for  Meath,  Gavan  Duffy  for  New  Eoss, 
John  Francis  Maguire  for  Dungarvan,  and,  above  all  in  im- 
portance, George  Henry  Moore,  a  member  of  the  dissolved 
Parliament,  already  marked  out  as  a  master  of  men  in  the 
popular  ranks,  was  again  elected  for  Mayo.  On  the  other 
hand,  Mr.  Sadleir  and  his  three  cousins,  Frank  and  Vincent 
Scully  and  Robert  Keatinge,  were  re-elected  ;  so  was  Mr. 
Keogh ;  and  Mr.  Sadleir's  brother  James  came  in  for  Tip- 
perary ;  all  finding  it  requisite  to  hoist  the  Tenant-Right 
colors  beside  the  misused  papal  banner  which  they  waved  in 
the  people's  eyes.  It  was  in  the  course  of  this  campaign  that 
Mr.  Keogh,  addressing  a  mob  in  Westmeath,  in  the  interest 
of  his  friend  Captain  Magan,  delivered  a  speech  containing 
at  least  one  suggestion  which  listening  Ribbonmen  were  not 
likely  to  forget.  "Boys,"  said  he,  "the  days  are  now  long 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  221 

and  the  nights  are  short.  In  winter  the  days  will  be  short 
and  the  nights  will  be  long ;  and  then  let  every  one  remem- 
ber who  voted  for  Sir  Richard  Levinge. "  * 

But,  though  Mr.  Keogh  was  the  man  who  figured  most 
before  the  public,  the  unseen  Von  Moltke  of  the  whole 
scheme  was  John  Sadleir.  Already  he  saw  victory  at  hand. 
The  result  of  the  general  elections  gave  a  narrow  majority 
to  the  Liberal  party.  The  Tories  could  not  hold  office. 
The  Eussell  Whigs,  without  the  Irish  vote,  were  equally 
powerless.  A  coalition  ministry  —  embracing  the  Peelite 
Conservatives  and  anti-Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill  Liberals — 
was  the  only  possible  administration.  Already  in  imagina- 
tion the  banker-politician  grasped  a  coronet  as  the  price  of 
the  Irish  Brigade ! 

In  Ireland  the  joy  of  the  people  over  the  return  of  so  large 
an  array  of  Tenant- Right  members  was  unbounded.  It  was 
for  Gavan  Duffy,  especially,  a  short-lived  triumph  over  his 
assailants  of  the  revolutionary  school.  A  faithful  and  inde- 
pendent band  of  representatives,  he  declared,  would  be  worth 
more  to  Ireland  in  her  existing  condition  than  armies  in  the 
tented  field.  It  did  seem  as  if  the  Irish  people  had  settled 
down  at  last  to  the  design  of  fighting  out  their  political 
issues  with  the  weapons  of  the  franchise  and  the  forces  of 
public  opinion. 

On  Wednesday,  8th  of  September,  1852,  a  general  confer- 
ence of  Irish  members  of  Parliament  favorable  to  tenant- 
right,  convened  by  the  League,  was  held  in  Dublin.  Every 
Liberal  member  sitting  for  an  Irish  seat,  with  one  or  two 
exceptions,  was  present ;  forty  in  all.  The  following  resolu- 
tion as  the  basis  of  their  future  parliamentary  policy 
and  action  was  adopted  with  but  one  f  dissentient  voice  : 

*  Mr.  Keogh  subsequently  declared  he  had  no  recollection  whatever 
of  this  ;  and  a  special  friend  of  his  was  adduced  who  "  did  not  hear  it ; " 
but  several  affidavits  or  declarations  were  quoted  by  Lord  Eglintoun 
from  persons  who  were  present  and  heard  the  words. 

f  Mr.  Burke  Roche,  afterward  Lord  Fennoy. 


222  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  this  conference  it  is  essential  to 
the  proper  management  of  this  cause  that  the  members  of  Parliament 
who  have  been  returned  on  tenant-right  principles  should  hold  them- 
selves perfectly  independent  of,  and  in  opposition  to,  all  Governments 
which  do  not  make  it  part  of  their  policy,  and  a  Cabinet  question,  to 
give  to  the  tenantry  of  Ireland  a  measure  embodying  the  principles  of 
Mr.  Sharman  Crawford's  bill." 

On  the  4th  of  November,  1852,  the  new  Parliament 
opened.  At  4  A.M.,  Friday,  17th  of  December,  the  Derby 
Government  was  defeated  in  the  Commons  by  a  majority  of 
nineteen.  On  the  20th  ministers  resigned,  and  Lord  Aber- 
deen was  called  upon  to  form  a  Cabinet. 

A  shout  went  up  from  Ireland.  A  thrill  of  the  wildest 
excitement  shook  the  island  from  the  center  to  the  sea. 
Now  joy  and  triumph,  now  torturing  doubt,  now  the  very 
agony  of  suspense,  prevailed.  What  would  the  Irish  party 
do  ?  Here  was  the  crisis  which  was  to  shame  their  oaths  or 
prove  them  true.  No  Liberal  or  composite  administration 
was  possible  without  them,  and  their  demand  was  one  no 
minister  had  ever  denied  to  be  just.  What  would  the  Irish 
members  do  ?  The  fate  of  the  new  ministry,  the  fate  of 
Ireland,  was  in  their  hands. 

As  terrible  deeds  are  said  to  be  sometimes  preceded  by  a 
mysterious  apprehension,  so  in  the  last  week  of  that  old  year 
a  vague  gloom  chilled  every  heart.  The  news  from  London 
was  panted  for,  hour  by  hour.  At  length  the  blow  fell. 
Tidings  of  treason  and  disaster  came.  The  Brigade  was 
sold  to  Lord  Aberdeen  !  John  Sadleir  was  Lord  of  the 
Treasury !  William  Keogh  was  Irish  Solicitor-General  ! 
Edmond  O'Flaherty  was  Commissioner  of  Income-Tax ! 
And  so  on. 

The  English  people,  fortunately  accustomed  for  centuries 
to  exercise  the  functions  of  political  life,  may  well  be  unable 
to  comprehend  the  paralysis  which  followed  this  blow  in  Ire- 
land. The  merchant  of  many  ships  may  bear  with  composure 
the  wreck  of  one.  But  here  was  an  argosy  freighted  with  the 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  223 

last  and  most  precious  hopes  of  a  people  already  on  the  Terge 
of  ruin  and  despair,  scuttled  before  their  eyes  by  the  men  who 
had  called  on  the  Most  High  God  to  witness  their  fidelity. 
The  Irish  tenantry  had  played  their  last  stake,  and  lost.  A 
despairing  stupor  like  to  that  of  the  famine- time  shrouded  the 
land.  Notices  to  quit  fell  "like  snow-flakes"  all  over  the 
counties  where  the  hapless  farmers  had  "  refused  the  land- 
lord "  and  voted  for  a  Brigadier.  But  the  banker-politician 
had  won.  His  accustomed  success  had  attended  him.  He 
was  not  as  yet  a  peer ;  but  he  was  a  Treasury  Lord.  From 
their  seat  on  the  Treasury  bench,  he  and  his  comrade,  "the 
Solicitor-General,"  could  smile  calmly  at  the  accusing  coun- 
tenances of  Duffy  and  Moore  and  Lucas.  The  New  Year's 
chimes  rang  in  the  triumph  of  John  Sadleir's  daring  ambi- 
tion. Did  no  dismal  minor  tone,  like  mournful  funeral 
knell,  presage  the  sequel  that  was  now  so  near  at  hand  ? 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  SUICIDE  BANKEB. 

SIDE  by  side  with  the  political  movements  and  events  that 
landed  Mr.  Sadleir  on  the  Treasury  bench,  financial  schemes 
of  the  most  ambitious  character  had  occupied  his  mind.  He 
early  noted  how  fortunes  might  be  made  out  of  the  ruin  of 
Irish  landed  proprietors  in  the  Encumbered  Estates  Court. 
He  got  up  a  "Land  Company"  to  purchase  the  properties 
just  then  being  sold  at  from  seven  to  thirteen  years'  rental, 
with  a  view  to  reselling  them  subsequently  at  the  advance 
which  he  knew  would  take  place.  His  connection  with  the 
Tipperary  Bank  brought  him  into  association  with  the  mag- 
nates of  Lombard  Street ;  and  ere  long  he  was  chairman  of 
the  London  and  County  Joint-Stock  Bank.  Higher,  still 
higher,  grew  his  aims,  bolder  and  more  daring  his  schemes 
and  speculations.  He  was  in  Italian,  American,  and  Spanish 
railways.  He  was  deep  in  iron  ;  and  at  one  time,  it  is  said, 
he  owned  every  cargo  of  sugar  in  port  or  at  sea  between  Eng- 
land and  the  Indies. 

Amidst  the  hoarse  roar  of  denunciation  which  hailed  the 
desertion  of  the  Brigade  to  Lord  Aberdeen's  camp,  there  came 
the  bold  assurances  of  the  Weekly  Telegraph  that  all  was 
right.  Nay,  virtuous  indignation  was  manifested  at  the  in- 
justice of  condemning  those  gentlemen  before  their  explana- 
tion had  been  heard.  They  were  in  no  hurry  to  offer  any ; 
but  substantially  their  story  was  this  :  "  Lord  Aberdeen  had 
not  repealed  the  Titles  Act,  nor  undertaken  to  do  so  ;  but  he 
is  the  Catholic's  friend.  He  fought  against  the  '  No  Popery ' 
penal  legislators ;  he  is  on  terms  of  respect  and  regard  with 

224 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  225 

our  bishops.  He  has  not  passed  a  tenant-right  bill,  nor  un- 
dertaken to  do  so ;  but  he  wishes  the  cause  well,  and  will 
probably  deal  with  the  question.  To  oppose  such  a  man  we 
should  act  side  by  side  with  our  deadly  enemies,  the  Tories. 
His  accession  to  power  is  the  virtual  defeat  of  Lord  John 
Eussell,  who  passed  the  Titles  Bill,  and  of  Lord  Derby,  who 
assisted  it." 

The  Tenant  League  was  rent  in  twain  by  the  Sadleir  de- 
fection. Not  merely  the  League,  the  country  at  large,  was 
split  into  fiercely-hostile  parties,  one  making  the  heavens 
resound  with  execrations  of  the  forsworn  Brigadiers,  the 
other  as  stormily  defending  them. 

At  this  point  of  Irish  political  history  the  political  influ- 
ence and  authority  of  the  Catholic  bishops  received  a  shock 
which  has  considerably  influenced  L'ish  affairs  down  to  the 
present  day. 

Mr.  Sadleir  and  Mr.  Keogh  had  of  course  to  present  them- 
selves for  re-election  in  their  boroughs  of  Carlow  and  Athlone. 
The  Leaguers  flung  themselves  with  energy  into  the  work  of 
defeating  them.  In  both  places  it  was  found  that  the  Catholic 
prelates  and  clergy  supported  the  Brigade  leaders.  This 
news  created  consternation.  A  deputation,  consisting  of 
Frederick  Lucas,  M.P.,  George  H.  Moore,  M.P.,  Rev.  T. 
O'Shea,  C.C.,  and  Eev.  Dr.  Kearney,  P.P.,  on  the  part  of 
the  Tenant  League,  proceeded  to  Carlow  to  oppose  Mr. 
Sadleir.  The  local  clergy  denounced  them  as  intruders,  and 
they  had  to  quit  the  town.  It  was  still  worse  at  Athlone, 
where  every  one  was  overjoyed  at  Mr.  Keogh's  good  fortune. 
Stunned,  alarmed  at  the  probable  effects  of  this  approval  of 
a  disregard  for  public  obligations,  the  League  leaders  ap- 
pealed to  the  Catholic  bishops  and  clergy  of  Ireland  to  speak 
out  promptly  and  say  was  it  conducive  to  public  morality 
that  pledges  so  solemnly  and  explicitly  made  to  the  people 
should  be  violated  on  the  first  opportunity  with  the  sanction 
of  Catholic  ecclesiastics.  From  the  Most  Eev.  Dr.  MacHale, 
Archbishop  of  Tuam,  came  a  ready  and  emphatic  response. 
10* 


226  NEW  IRELAND. 

Standing  as  he  did  at  the  head  of  the  Irish  episcopacy  in 
political  weight  and  influence,  it  was  not  unnaturally  ex- 
pected that  a  pronouncement  from  "the  Lion  of  the  Fold 
of  Judah,"  as  O'Connell  had  designated  him,  would  have 
been  accepted  as  decisive.  No  Catholic  prelate  in  Ireland 
had  filled  so  large  a  place  as  he  in  Irish  affairs  for  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ;  none  at  all  approached  him  in  popu- 
larity. He  had  been  fondly  looked  up  to  by  the  Irish  Cath- 
olic millions  as  an  episcopal  O'Connell, — a  guide  who  was 
"  always  right,"  a  champion  whom  nothing  could  dismay. 
He  addressed  a  public  letter  to  Mr.  G.  H.  Moore,  M.P.,  on 
the  question  of  the  day,  "as  a  clear  case  of  conscience, 
which,  when  stripped  of  all  other  relations  of  policy,  or 
expediency  or  private  interest,  or  prophecies  of  increased 
good,  or  probabilities  of  qualified  evil,  with  which  it  is 
sought  to  obscure  and  confound  it,  is  too  clear  for  debate  or 
conflicting  decisions."  Then  he  went  on  to  say, — 

"  On  the  strict  and  religious  obligation  of  fidelity  to  such  covenants 
there  can  be  no  controversy, — an  obligation  the  more  sacred  and  bind- 
ing in  proportion  to  the  numbers  committed  to  such  engagement,  and 
to  the  magnitude  and  sacredness  of  the  interests  which  they  involve. 
Dissolve  the  binding  power  of  such  contracts,  and  you  loosen  the 
firmest  bonds  by  which  society  is  kept  together." 

The  Catholic  bishops  of  Meath  and  Killala  expressed 
themselves  to  a  like  effect.  But  at  the  points  of  critical  im- 
portance, in  the  boroughs  where  the  rejection  of  the  Brigade 
leaders  might  have  had  a  telling  effect  on  the  controversy, 
it  happened,  fortunately  for  them,  that  the  local  bishops  in- 
dorsed their  course.  This  conflict  between  ecclesiastical 
authorities  on  a  grave  question  of  public  morality  greatly 
scandalized  the  people.  Every  one  looked  for  a  declaration 
from  the  new  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  the  Papal  Legate. 
None  came.  Soon  his  silence  received  a  dark  construction. 
His  uncle,  the  Eev.  James  Maher,  P.P.,  was  one  of  Mr.  Sad* 
lier's  strongest  supporters  in  Carlow ;  and  it  became  manifest 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  227 

that  Dr.  Cullen's  influence,  in  Ireland  and  at  Rome,  was 
certain  to  be  given,  negatively  or  positively,  on  the  side  of 
Lord  Aberdeen.  This  was  partly  his  own  judgment  on 
things  as  they  presented  themselves  to  his  view.  But  there 
was  a  whisper  at  the  time  of  rather  curious  negotiations 
privately  pushed  between  London,  Vienna,  and  Home,  as  to 
the  claims  of  the  new  Premier  on  "the  Catholic  vote"  in 
the  House  of  Commons ;  and  these  stories,  rightly  or  wrongly, 
were  connected  with  the  attitude  which  Dr.  Cullen  assumed 
in  the  subsequent  events.  It  seemed  for  a  moment  as  if 
almost  a  schism  would  ensue  in  the  Irish  Catholic  Church 
over  the  issue  thus  precipitated.  An  open  war  raged  be- 
tween the  sections  of  the  clergy  and  people  who  ranged 
themselves  under  the  banners  of  Dr.  MacHale  and  Dr.  Cul- 
len respectively.  The  latter  maintained  a  severe  silence,  but 
he  might  as  well  have  openly  espoused  the  cause  of  Mr. 
Sadleir  and  Mr.  Keogh  ;  for  the  Tablet  and  Nation  treated 
him  as  the  really  formidable  protector  of  those  gentlemen. 
No  more  violent,  no  more  painful,  internecine  conflict 
agitated  Irish  politics  in  the  present  century  than  that 
which  arose  out  of  this  clerical  and  episcopal  condonation 
and  reprobation  of  the  Keogh-Sadleir  defection  from  the 
Tenant  League. 

Mr.  Sadleir  was  opposed  in  Carlow  by  a  Tory,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander. The  Freeman,  the  Nation,  and  the  Tablet  exhorted 
the  people  to  vote  for  Alexander,  all  Tory  as  he  was,  rather 
than  for  the  new  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  The  Weekly  Tele- 
graph and  the  Evening  Post  cried  out  in  horror  against  this 
unholy  union  of  Orange  Tories  and  renegade  Catholics  in 
opposition  to  the  protege  of  the  hishop,  the  favorite  of  the 
priests,  the  champion  of  the  Pope,  the  bosom  friend  of  Lord 
Aberdeen.  After  a  severe  contest,  Mr.  Sadleir  was  rejected 
by  an  adverse  majority  of  six  votes.  In  Athlone,  however, 
Mr.  Keogh  was  not  only  triumphant,  but  the  Catholic  bishop, 
Dr.  Browne,  ostentatiously  identified  himself  with  the  lauda- 
ble advancement  of  so  good  a  son  of  the  Church.  Soon 


228  NEW  IRELAND. 

after  a  vacancy  was  found  for  the  Lord  of  the  Treasury  in 
Sligo,  where  by  shameless  bribery  and  terrorism  he  headed 
the  poll.  A  parliamentary  committee  said  so  it  had  been ; 
but  as  Mr.  Sadleir  was  held  to  have  no  personal  knowledge 
of  those  crimes,  his  seat  was  secure. 

In  Ireland,  centuries  of  a  cruel  penal  code  had  kept  Cath- 
olics from  every  post  of  prominence  or  distinction  in  the 
public  administration.  The  Emancipation  Act  had,  indeed, 
declared  them  no  longer  ineligible  for  such  offices  by  reason 
of  religious  faith  ;  but  (as  Mr.  Peel  at  the  time  pointed  out 
to  some  unnecessarily  alarmed  Protestants)  declaring  men 
not  disqualified  was  one  thing,  actually  appointing  them  was 
another.  From  1829  to  1849  the  Emancipation  Act  was 
little  more  than  an  abstract  declaration,  for  any  substantial 
change  that  the  people  could  see  in  the  old  regime.  "  Cath- 
olic appointments  "  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  great  test  of 
Government  liberality.  The  placing  of  Catholics  in  impor- 
tant public  offices,  especially  as  judges  on  the  bench,  was 
looked  upon  as  the  practical  application  of  the  Emancipa- 
tion Act;  and  the  ministry  who  should  make  the  act  a 
reality  would  be  ranked  very  nearly  as  highly  as  those  who 
had  enacted  it  as  a  theory.  In  Dublin,  at  Vienna,  and  at 
Eome,  Lord  Aberdeen,  through  able  and  astute  Catholic  in- 
termediaries, pledged  himself  to  this  view ;  and  unquestion- 
ably he  meant  it.  "What  greater  proof,  it  was  asked,  could 
he  give  of  his  feelings  and  intentions  on  this  point  than  the 
fact  of  singling  out  for  high  positions  under  his  administra- 
tion the  most  prominent  and  demonstrative  Irish  opponents 
of  the  Titles  Bill, — the  men  whose  ultra-Catholicism  had 
rendered  them  most  obnoxious  to  English  Protestant  prej- 
udices ? 

This  aspect  of  the  transaction  unquestionably  impressed 
many  of  the  Irish  bishops  irresistibly.  And  they  persuaded 
themselves  that,  even  on  the  tenant  question,  Lord  Aber- 
deen's dispositions  were  likely  to  go  beyond  anything  other- 
wise practicable.  Moreover,  the  new  political  idea  or  rule 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  229 

of  "  independence  of  and  opposition  to  all  administrations  " 
was  too  great  and  too  sudden  a  change  from  the  traditional 
alliance  of  the  Irish  popular  party  with  the  English  Liberals. 
The  Irish  members  had  indeed  " resolved"  it  at  the  confer- 
ence, but  not  more  than  a  third  of  their  number  really 
meant  it.  The  wrench  was  too  severe.  On  its  very  first 
application  the  new  rule  broke  down.  The  popular  mind 
had  not  been  educated  yet  beyond  the  one  point  of  always 
opposing  the  Tories,  "  who  never  gave  Catholics  anything." 

The  League  leaders,  especially  the  League  journalists* 
Duffy,  Gray,  and  Lucas,  denounced  the  idea  that  for  the 
sake  of  "  Catholics  in  office  "  the  Land  question,  which  in- 
volved interests  of  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike,  should 
be  sacrificed.  They  held  up  to  public  odium  and  eternal 
reprobation  every  man — archbishop,  bishop,  priest,  or  lay- 
man— who  directly  or  indirectly  approved  or  sustained  the 
Brigade  treason.  The  "  Sadleirite  prelates,"  as  they  were 
offensively  termed,  struck  back  with  hard  and  sharp  blows. 
Too-demonstrative  priests  were  removed  to  remote  parishes, 
and  even  called  upon  to  "abstain  from  political  strife." 
Eventually  the  leading  provincial  priests  (chiefly  from  the 
diocese  of  Meath),  accustomed  to  attend  the  meetings  in 
Dublin  whereat  "the  Brigade  traitors"  and  their  episcopal 
and  other  supporters  were  denounced,  found  themselves  pro- 
hibited, by  an  order  from  Kome,  from  further  participation 
in  such  demonstrations. 

All  this  was  set  down  mainly  to  Dr.  Cullen's  account. 
His  voice  was  known  to  be  all-powerful  at  the  Propaganda. 
The  parochial  clergy  took  alarm.  He  was  suspected  of  a 
deep  design  to  overthrow  the  considerable  independence 
which  hitherto  they  enjoyed.  It  was  said  that  "  provincial 
statutes  "  had  been  forwarded  by  him  for  approval  to  Rome, 
whereby  the  platform  utterances  of  a  priest  should  be  con-r 
fined  to  his  own  parish.  Hitherto  in  the  selection  of  Cath- 
olic prelates  the  custom  had  been  for  the  diocesan  parish 
priests  to  select  by  ballot  three  persons, — dignus,  dignior, 


230  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  dignissimus,  according  as  they  stood  on  the  vote, — 
whose  names  were  forwarded  to  Eome,  and  one  of  whom 
almost  invariably  received  the  appointment.  Dr.  Cullen 
was  credited  with  the  purpose  of  abolishing  this  ancient 
custom,  and  of  recommending  the  Holy  See  to  assert  its  un- 
questionable right  of  nomination  independently  of  the  parish 
priests.*  A  deep  discontent  spread  throughout  the  island. 
At  length  it  was  decided  to  appeal  to  Eome  against  his  pro- 
ceedings. 

This  was  a  very  serious,  an  almost  unprecedented,  course 
for  Irish  Catholics  to  take.  An  appeal  to  Home  against  the 
Papal  Legate  !  To  complain  of  him  that  he  was  curbing 
with  strong  hand  the  political  action  of  clerics  !  This  was 
unlikely  to  be  deemed  an  offense  by  the  Vatican  authorities. 
The  intricacies  of  Irish  politics,  the  tangled  skein  of  the 
League-Brigade  dispute,  could  hardly  be  unraveled  and  com- 
prehended by  such  a  tribunal.  Nevertheless,  well  knowing 
it  was  one  that  never  yet  denied  justice  to  the  weakest  or  the 
humblest,  even  against  the  lofty  and  the  strong,  the  aggrieved 
priests  of  the  tenant-right  movement  drew  up  a  formal  Me- 
morial or  Complaint  for  presentation  to  the  Pope. 

But  who  would  sign  it  ?  "Who  would  present  it  ?  Who 
was  in  a  position  to  prosecute  it, — to  proceed  to  the  Eternal 
City  and  there  attend  and  await  the  myriad  tedious  stages 
and  processes  of  investigation  ?  After  a  good  deal  of  time 
had  been  consumed  by  reason  of  these  difficulties  and  obstruc- 
tions, the  Memorial  was  at  length  duly  signed,  and  Mr.  Lucas, 
M.P.,  editor  of  the  Tablet,  was  chosen  to  proceed  to  Eome  as 
the  representative  of  the  complainants  before  the  Apostolic 
Chair.  He  went  on  a  forlorn  hope.  He  was  kindly  received. 
The  grave  impeachment  which  he  brought  was  decreed  a 
careful  consideration.  But  the  whole  proceeding  was  a 

*  This  change  has,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  been  ever  since  in  a  great 
measure  applied.  In  several  instances  the  nominations  of  the  parochial 
clergy  have  been  passed  over,  and  the  bishops  directly  appointed  from 
Rome. 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  231 

mournful  mistake.  Months  went  by.  Weary  waiting  in 
Eome  and  despairing  news  from  Ireland  told  heavily  on  the 
spirits  and  on  the  health  of  the  loyal-hearted  Lucas.  He  had 
to  return  to  England,  leaving  the  Memorial  to  its  fate.  When 
we  heard  that  he  lay  ill  at  Staines,  those  who  knew  the  man 
intimately  and  had  marked  the  consuming  anxiety  with 
which  he  had  fought  out  this  quarrel  felt  that  a  great  and 
noble  heart  had  been  broken  in  an  unequal  combat.  The 
news  from  Ireland  was  simply  this,  that  the  Irish  parlia- 
mentary party  was  a  wreck,  that  the  League  was  fatally  shat- 
tered, the  country  utterly  disheartened  and  despairing.  The 
great  movement  around  which  the  hopes  of  a  nation  had 
centered  was  irretrievably  ruined.  The  League  organization, 
indeed,  refusing  to  surrender,  made  gallant  effort  for  some 
few  years  further,  and  a  small  band  of  the  Irish  members, 
"among  the  faithless  faithful  found," — Gavan  Duffy,  G.  H. 
Moore,  P.  M'Mahon,  J.  A.  Blake,  J.  F.  Maguire,  Tristram 
Kennedy,  John  Brady,  and  others, — fought  bravely  on.  But 
it  was  more  to  make  a  stand  for  honor  than  with  hope  of 
victory.  Mr.  Sadleir  had  carried  the  day. 

No  sooner  did  Gavan  Duffy  realize  that  the  Memorial  to 
Eome  was  likely  to  come  to  naught  than  he  determined  to 
bid  Ireland  farewell.  No  man  had  staked  more  largely  on 
the  success  of  this  movement,  none  lost  more  heavily  by  its 
overthrow.  He,  at  all  events,  had  cleared  his  soul ;  he  had 
done  his  part.  He  had  given  to  the  service  of  Ireland  the 
best  years  of  his  life,  without  avail.  He  would  now  call 
upon  younger  men,  who  might  hope  where  he  could  not,  to 
take  his  place,  if  they  would  ;  while,  for  himself,  he  sought 
a  new  home,  and  began  life  once  more,  at  five-and-thirty,  in 
far  Australia. 

In  1854  there  passed  through  Parliament  the  most  states- 
manlike scheme  of  British  legislation  for  half  a  century, — 
the  act  whereby  the  Australian  colonies  were  granted  Home 
Eule.  Mr.  Duffy  took  a  deep  interest  and  an  active  part  in 
all  the  discussions  on  this  important  measure.  He  added  to 


232  NEW  IRELAND. 

it  some  of  its  wisest  provisions,  and  saved  it  from  faults  that 
might  have  seriously  marred  its  success.  Few  imagined  at 
the  time  that  he  was  destined  to  be,  ere  long,  engaged  in 
practically  applying  that  scheme  as  First  Minister  of  the 
Crown  in  free,  self-governed  Victoria  ! 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  been  too  precipitate  in 
meditating  self-expatriation.  Toward  the  close  of  1853  an  om- 
inous event  occurred.  The  first  faint  sign  of  a  fissure  appeared 
in  the  edifice  of  Mr.  Sadleir's  political  and  financial  fortunes ! 

In  his  unsuccessful  attempt  at  re-election  for  Carlow  bor- 
ough he  had  used  unscrupulously  and  illegally  the  resources 
of  his  bank  (which  had  a  branch  in  the  town),  and  the  mech- 
anism of  bills,  bonds,  debts,  executions,  and  seizures,  to  in- 
fluence the  result.  He  usually  took  care  to  have  a  sufficient 
number  of  the  electors  in  his  power  through  some  such 
means.  On  the  morning  of  the  election  an  unfortunate  man 
named  Dowling,  suspected  of  an  intention  to  vote  for  Mr. 
Alexander,  was  unlawfully  arrested  on  some  judgment  which 
Mr.  Sadleir  produced  against  him.  Dowling  brought  an 
action  for  false  imprisonment  in  the  Court  of  Exchequer, 
Dublin,  in  November,  1853.  The  revelations  in  the  case 
were  damning  against  the  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  He  came 
into  the  witness-box,  however,  and,  as  it  was  well  expressed, 
"denied  everything,  and  disowned  everybody."  So  bold 
and  desperate  was  his  evidence  that  the  jury  had  no  option 
but  to  find  against  Dowling  or  declare  Mr.  Sadleir  a  per- 
jurer. They  disbelieved  Mr.  Sadleir,  and  gave  Dowling  a 
verdict !  The  sensation  created  in  Dublin  at  the  time  by 
this  event  was  considerable  ;  hardly  less  serious  was  the  ex- 
citement it  caused  in  some  of  the  political  and  financial  circles 
of  London.  In  a  few  weeks  it  became  known  that  after  such 
a  verdict  the  lordship  of  the  Treasury  could  not  be  retained. 
In  January,  1854,  Mr.  Sadleir  "resigned." 

Eesigned  !  The  tide  had  turned  with  the  banker-politician 
and,  all  unknown  to  the  world,  was  now  bearing  him  irresist- 
ibly to  ruin. 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  233 

In  March  a  sinister  rumor  crept  around  that  Mr.  Sadleir, 
so  far  from  being  a  millionaire,  was  at  the  moment  in  finan- 
cial difficulty.  The  story,  however,  was  scoffed  at,  and  re- 
ceived what  seemed  ample  refutation  in  new  proofs  displayed 
of  his  vast  financial  resources.  In  June  people  began  to  in- 
quire in  a  cynical  way,  Where  was  Mr.  Edmond  O'Flaherty  ? 
Mr.  O'Flaherty  was  the  Brigadier  who  had  been  made  Com- 
missioner of  Income-Tax  ;  a  peculiarly  intimate  friend,  con- 
fidant, and  political  manager  of  Messrs.  Sadleir  and  Keogh  ; 
another  of  those  "good  Catholics"  whom  it  was  so  beneficial 
to  Ireland  to  have  placed  in  high  office.  Where  was  he,  in- 
deed ?  The  authorities  at  Scotland  Yard  grew  anxious  on  the 
point,  when  it  was  discovered  one  morning  that  the  "  Com- 
missioner of  Income-Tax  "  had  fled  to  parts  unknown,  leaving 
bills  in  circulation,  some  of  them  with  forged  signatures, 
amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  about  fifteen  thousand  pounds. 

Men  stared  in  wonder,  and  asked,  "  Who  next  ?  "  Mr. 
0 'Flaherty's  relations  with  other  of  the  Brigade  politicians 
suggested  painful  uncertainty  as  to  further  disclosures.  He 
was  a  special  protege  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  with  whom 
he  was  on  visiting  terms.  There  is  little  doubt  that  he  was 
the  negotiator  of  the  recent  political  transaction  between  his 
friends  and  the  Aberdeen  Government.  And  now  he  was  a 
fugitive  from  justice  ! 

Parliament  opened  on  the  23d  of  January,  1855.  Mr. 
Eoebuck  at  once  gave  notice  that  he  would  move  for  a  com- 
mittee to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the  army  before  Se- 
bastopol,  and  into  the  conduct  of  the  Government  depart- 
ments responsible.  On  hearing  this  notice  read,  Lord  John 
Eussell  withdrew  from  the  ministry,  and  "upset  the  coach 
again."  Six  days  subsequently,  the  29th  of  January,  the 
coalition  administration  was  defeated  on  Mr.  Roebuck's  mo- 
tion by  the  large  majority  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven,  in 
a  house  of  four  hundred  and  fifty-three.  On  the  1st  of  Feb- 
ruary Lord  Aberdeen  resigned.  Between  the  2d  and  5th 
Lord  John  Russell  and  Lord  Derby  had  each  in  turn  tried 


234  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  failed  to  form  a  Cabinet.  On  the  6th  Lord  Palmerston 
became  Premier,  with  a  reconstruction  of  the  late  adminis- 
tration. Mr.  Keogh  had  been  Irish  Solicitor-General ;  Mr. 
Brewster  being  Attorney-General.  Of  course  it  was  con- 
cluded that  their  resignation  of  office  would  follow  upon  that 
of  the  Government.  Mr.  Brewster  did  so  resign,  under  the 
belief  that  his  junior  colleague  was  doing  the  same ;  but  he 
found  that  his  act  had  merely  made  a  vacancy  for  Mr. 
Keogh,  who  quietly  held  on  and  stepped  into  the  Attorney- 
Generalship.  There  was  a  story  current  in  the  Four  Courts 
at  the  time  that  Mr.  Keogh  had  cleverly  "  sold  "  Mr.  Brew- 
ster in  the  proceeding, — had  deliberately  misled  and  out- 
witted him  ;  but  I  never  believed  it,  as  the  latter  gentleman 
would,  in  any  event,  have  acted  on  the  strict  lines  of  usage, 
and  resigned  with  his  chief. 

On  the  4th  of  August,  1855,  Mr.  Gavan  Duffy  announced, 
by  a  farewell  address  in  the  Nation,  that  he  was  about  to 
throw  up  his  seat  in  Parliament  and  leave  Ireland  forever ! 
The  news  chilled  the  country  like  a  signal  of  despair.  Mr. 
Duffy's  first  idea,  I  believe,  was  that  the  whole  staff  of  the 
Nation  should  accompany  him,  and  that  they  should  re-es- 
tablish that  journal  under  happier  auspices  in  the  Southern 
hemisphere.  But  this  project  was  abandoned.  He  found  a 
few  hearts  who  would  hope  and  strive  on  at  home,  dismal  as 
was  the  outlook  then,  in  the  belief  that  some  day  Ireland 
would  come  to  life  and  would  arise  once  more.  Mr.  John 
Cashel  Hoey,  a  long-time  colleague  and  friend,  who  had 
served  him  with  ability  and  fidelity,  and  whose  brilliant 
gifts  and  dauntless  courage  had  been  amply  tested  in  years 
of  difficulty  and  struggle,  stepped  into  Mr.  Duffy's  place  as 
editor-in-chief ;  I  succeeded  to  the  second  position  ;  and  Mr. 
M.  Clery,  a  nobly  honest  and  true-souled  young  Irishman, 
undertook  the  business  management  of  the  property.  *  Mr. 

*  Mr.  Hoey  and  Mr.  Clery  retired  in  1857,  from  which  date  up  to 
1876  I  remained  sole  proprietor  and  responsible  editor. 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  235 

Duffy's  valedictory  address  described  in  moving  language  the 
events  of  the  past  six  years,  and  the  present  circumstances 
of  Ireland.  A  change  might  come,  he  said, — and  that  it 
might  he  fondly  prayed  ;  but  unless  and  until  the  existing 
conditions  altered  "there  was  no  more  hope  for  Ireland  than 
for  a  corpse  on  the  dissecting- table."  Gloomy  news  came 
crowding  in.  On  the  22d  of  October  Frederick  Lucas  died 
at  Staiues.  On  the  6th  of  November  Gavan  Duffy  sailed  for 
Australia.  It  seemed  the  extinction  of  national  politics  in 
Ireland. 

I  have  said  that  in  1854  the  tide  had  turned  with  John 
Sadleir.  Alas !  throughout  that  year,  and  all  the  weary 
days  of  1855,  unknown  to  even  his  nearest  and  dearest 
friends,  he  was  suffering  tortures  indescribable !  Some  of 
his  colossal  speculations  had  turned  out  adversely ;  and  he 
had  misappropriated  the  last  shilling  of  the  Tipperary  Bank. 
Another  venture,  he  thinks,  may  recoup  all :  it  only  leads 
to  deeper  ruin  !  He  must  go  on  :  he  cannot  turn  back  now. 
But  where  are  funds  to  be  reached  for  further  wild  endea- 
vors ?  All  calmly  as  ever  he  had  trod  the  lobby  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  No  eye  could  detect  on  that  impassive 
countenance  of  his  that  there  was  aught  but  the  satisfaction 
of  success  within.  His  political  associates  joked  with  him 
over  Gavan  Duffy's  "political  funeral."  They  effusively 
felicitated  him  on  the  signal  overthrow  and  final  dispersion 
of  his  adversaries.  "  Ireland  is  now  all  your  own,  John," 
said  one  of  them  ;  "  you  have  conquered  all  along  the  line. 
You  must  be  as  happy  as  a  king  ! "  He  smiled  his  cold  sad 
smile,  and  said,  Yes,  to  be  sure  he  was.  At  home  in  Ireland 
his  own  journal,  and  all  the  Liberal  Government  organs, 
were  never  tired  of  sounding  his  praise  and  proclaiming  his 
triumph  over  the  dead  Lucas  and  the  exiled  Duffy. 

Nightly,  after  leaving  the  House  of  Commons,  John  Sad- 
leir sat  up  late  in  the  private  study  of  his  town  house,  11 
Glo'ster  Terrace,  Hyde  Park.  Morning  often  dawned  and 
found  him  at  his  lonely  labors.  What  were  they  ? 


236  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  the  stillness  and  secresy  of  those  midnight  hours  John 
Sadleir,  the  man  of  success,  the  millionaire,  the  Lord  of  the 
Treasury  that  had  been,  the  peer  of  the  realm  that  was  to 
be,  was  occupied  in  forging  deeds,  conveyances,  and  bills  for 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds ! 

Still  accumulating  disaster  overpowered  even  these  re- 
sources of  fraud.  In  the  second  ^week  of  February,  1856, 
some  one  of  his  numerous  desperate  financial  expedients  hap- 
pened to  miscarry  for  a  day,  and  the  drafts  of  the  Tipperary 
Bank  were  dishonored  at  Glyn's.  The  news  came  with  a 
stunning  shock  on  most  people  ;  but  quickly,  next  day,  an 
announcement  was  issued  that  it  was  all  a  mistake, — the 
drafts  presented  anew  had  been  duly  met,  and  the  mischance 
would  not  again  befall.  The  alarm,  however,  had  reached 
Ireland,  and  at  several  of  the  branches  something  akin  to  a 
run  took  place.  If  only  a  panic  could  be  averted,  and 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand  pounds  obtained,  all  might  be 
saved.  So,  at  least,  declared  Mr.  James  Sadleir,  M.P.,  who 
was  in  charge  of  affairs  in  Ireland,  telegraphing  to  John  on 
the  morning  of  Saturday,  16th  of  February.*  Twenty  or 
thirty  thousand  pounds.  Once  it  was  a  bagatelle  in  his  esti- 
mation ;  but  now  !  He  had  lain  on  no  bed  the  night  before. 
All  haggard  and  excited  this  message  found  him.  James 
little  knew  all  when  he  thus  lightly  spoke  of  twenty  or  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  by  way  of  reassuring  his  hapless  brother. 
The  wretched  man  strove  in  vain  to  devise  some  yet  unex- 
hausted means  of  raising  this  money.  He  had  already  gone 
so  far,  so  perilously  far,  that  there  was  no  possible  quarter 
in  which  earnest  application  might  not  lead  to  suspicions 
that  would  invoke  discovery  !  He  drove  into  the  city.  Mr. 
Wilkinson,  of  Nicholas  Lane,  telling  the  sad  affair  subse- 

*  "Feb.  16, 1856.— Telegram  from  James  Sadleir,  30  Merion  Square 
South,  Dublin,  to  John  Sadleir,  Esq.,  M.P.,  Reform  Club,  London  :  All 
right  at  all  the  branches  ;  only  a  few  small  things  refused  there.  If 
from  twenty  to  thirty  thousand  over  here  on  Monday  morning  all  is 
safe." 


TEE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  237 

quently,  says,  "  He  came  to  me  on  the  morning  of  Satur- 
day, and  suggested  that  I  could  raise  some  money  with  the 
view  of  assisting  the  Tipperary  Bank.  He  showed  me  some 
telegraphic  messages  he  had  received  from  Ireland  on  the 
subject  of  their  .wants.  He  had  several  schemes  by  which 
he  thought  I  could  assist  him  in  raising  money  ;  but  after 
going  into  them  I  told  him  I  could  not  help  him,  the 
schemes  being  such  as  I  could  not  recommend  or  adopt.  He 
then  became  very  excited,  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  and 
said,  '  Good  God !  if  the  Tipperary  Bank  should  fail  the 
fault  will  be  entirely  mine,  and  I  shall  have  been  the  ruin  of 
hundreds  and  thousands.'  He  walked  about  the  office  in  a 
very  excited  state,  and  urged  me  to  try  and  help  him,  be- 
cause, he  said,  he  could  not  live  to  see  the  pain  and  ruin 
inflicted  on  others  by  the  cessation  of  the  bank.  The  inter- 
view ended  in  this,  that  I  was  unable  to  assist  him  in  his 
plans  to  raise  money." 

In  this  case,  what  he  feared  in  so  many  others  exactly  oc- 
curred. Mr.  Wilkinson  had  previously  advanced  him  large 
sums,  for  which,  to  be  sure,  Mr.  Sadleir,  on  request,  had 
given  security, — one  of  those  numerous  title-deeds  which  he 
had  fabricated  during  the  past  year.  Mr.  Wilkinson  that 
same  Saturday  night  dispatched  his  partner,  Mr.  Stevens, 
to  Dublin,  to  look  after  the  matter.  On  Monday  this  gen- 
tleman found  that  the  deed  was  a  forgery.  But  by  that 
time  a  still  more  dreadful  tale  was  known  to  all  the  world. 

There  is  reason  to  think  John  Sadleir  knew  of  Mr. 
Stevens's  start  for  Dublin  before  ten  o'clock  that  evening. 
His  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Norris,  solicitor,  of  Bedford  Row, 
called  on  him  about  half-past  ten,  and  remained  half  an 
hour.  The  fact  was  discussed  between  them  that  the  Tip- 
perary Bank  must  stop  payment  on  Monday  morning. 

John  Sadleir  sat  him  down,  all  alone,  in  that  study,  and 
callous  must  be  the  heart  that  can  contemplate  him  in  that 
hour  and  not  compassionate  his  agony.  All  was  over  :  he 
must  die.  He  was  yet,  indeed,  in  the  prime  and  vigor  of 


238  NEW  IRELAND. 

manhood.  "Considerably  above  the  middle  height,"  says 
one  who  knew  him  well,  "his  figure  was  youthful,  but  his 
face, — that  was  indeed  remarkable.  Strongly  marked,  sal- 
low, eyes  and  hair  intensely  black,  and  the  lines  of  the 
mouth  worn  into  deep  channels."  The  busy  schemes,  the 
lofty  ambitions,  the  daring  speculations,  were  ended  now. 
The  poorest  cottier  on  a  Tipperary  hill-side  might  look  the 
morrow  in  the  face  and  cling  to  life ;  but  for  him,  the  en- 
vied man  of  thousands,  the  morning  sun  must  rise  in  vain. 
He  seized  a  pen,  and  devoted  half  an  hour  to  letter-writing. 
Oh,  that  woeful  correspondence  of  the  despairing  soul  with 
those  whom  it  loves,  and  is  to  lose  forever  !  Then  he  took 
a  small  silver  tankard  from  the  sideboard  and  put  it  in  his 
breast-pocket,  beside  a  small  phial  which  he  had  purchased 
early  in  that  fatal  day.  As  he  passed  through  the  hall  and 
took  his  hat  from  the  stand,  he  told  the  butler  not  to  wait 
up  for  him.  He  went  out  and  closed  the  door  behind  him 
with  a  firm  hand.  The  clocks  were  striking  twelve  :  'twas 
Sunday  morning  ;  God's  holy  day  had  come.  Ah,  far  away 
on  the  Suir  side  were  an  aged  father  and  mother,  with  whom 
a  child  he  often  trod  the  path  to  early  mass,  when  Sunday 
bells  were  music  to  his  ear  !  And  now  ! — oh,  fatal  lure  of 
wealth  !  oh,  damned,  mocking  fiend  ! — to  this,  to  this  it 
had  come  at  last  !  He  dare  not  think  of  God,  or  friend,  or 
home 

Next  morning,  on  a  little  mound  on  Hampstead  Heath, 
the  passers-by  noticed  a  gentleman  stretched  as  if  in  sleep. 
A  silver  tankard  had  fallen  from  his  hand  and  lay  upon  the 
ground.  It  smelt  strongly  of  prussic  acid.  A  crowd  soon 
gathered ;  the  police  arrived  ;  they  lifted  up  the  body,  all 
stiff  and  stark.  It  was  the  corpse  of  John  Sadleir,  the 
banker. 

On  Monday  the  news  flashed  through  the  kingdom. 
There  was  alarm  in  London ;  there  was  wild  panic  in  Ire- 
land. The  Tipperary  Bank  closed  its  doors ;  the  country- 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  239 

people  flocked  into  the  towns.  They  surrounded  and  at- 
tacked the  branches  :  the  poor  victims  imagined  their  money 
must  be  within,  and  they  got  crowbars,  picks,  and  spades  to 
force  the  walls  and  "dig  it  out."  The  scenes  of  mad  de- 
spair which  the  streets  of  Thurles  and  Tipperary  saw  that 
day  would  melt  a  heart  of  adamant.  Old  men  went  about 
like  maniacs,  confused  and  hysterical ;  widows  knelt  in  the 
street  and,  aloud,  asked  God  was  it  true  they  were  beggared 
forever.  Even  the  poor-law  unions,  which  had  kept  their 
accounts  in  the  bank,  lost  all,  and  had  not  a  shilling  to  buy 
the  paupers'  dinner  the  day  the  branch  doors  closed. 

The  letters  which  the  unhappy  suicide  penned  that  Satur- 
day night  reveal  much  of  the  terrible  story  so  long  hidden 
from  the  world.  The  following  was  addressed  to  his  cousin, 
Robert  Keatinge  : 

"  11  Glo'ster  Terrace,  16  February,  1856. 

"DEAR  EGBERT, — To  what  infamy  have  I  come  step  by  step — heap- 
ing crime  upon  crime — and  now  I  find  myself  the  author  of  number- 
less crimes  of  a  diabolical  character  and  the  cause  of  ruin  and  misery 
and  disgrace  to  thousands — ay,  to  tens  of  thousands.  Oh,  how  I  feel 
for  those  on  whom  all  this  ruin  must  fall !  I  could  bear  all  punish- 
ment but  I  could  never  bear  to  witness  the  sufferings  of  those  on 
whom  I  have  brought  such  ruin.  It  must  be  better  that  I  should  not 
live.  No  one  has  been  privy  to  my  crimes — they  sprung  from  my  own 
cursed  brain  alone.  I  have  swindled  and  deceived  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  any  one.  Stevens  and  Norris  are  both  innocent  and  have  no 
knowledge  of  the  fabrication  of  deeds  and  forgeries  by  me  and  which 
I  have  sought  to  go  on  in  the  horrid  hope  of  retrieving.  It  was  a  sad 
day  for  all  when  I  came  to  London.  I  can  give  but  little  aid  to  unravel 
accounts  and  transactions.  There  are  serious  questions  as  to  my  inter- 
est in  the  Grand  Junction  and  other  undertakings.  Much  will  be  lost 
to  the  creditors  if  these  cases  are  not  fairly  treated.  The  Grand  Junc- 
tion, the  East  Kent,  and  the  Swiss  Railways,  the  Rome  line,  the  Coal 
Co.  are  all  liable  to  be  entirely  lost  now— so  far  as  my  assets  are  con- 
cerned. I  authorize  you  to  take  possession  of  all  my  letters,  papers, 
property,  &c.,  &c.,  in  this  house  and  at  Wilkinsons  and  18  Cannon 
Street.  Return  my  brother  his  letters  to  me  and  all  other  papers. 
The  prayers  of  one  so  wicked  could  not  avail  or  I  would  seek  to  pray 
for  those  I  leave  after  me  and  who  will  have  to  suffer  such  agony  and 


240  NEW  IRELAND. 

all  owing  to  my  criminal  acts.  Oh  that  I  never  quitted  Ireland  !  Oh  that 
I  had  resisted  the  first  attempts  to  launch  me  into  speculations.  If  I 
had  had  less  talents  of  a  worthless  kind  and  more  firmness  I  might  have 
remained  as  I  once  was  honest  and  truthful — and  I  would  have  lived 
to  see  my  dear  Father  and  Mother  in  their  old  age.  I  weep  and  weep 
now,  but  what  can  that  avail  ! 

"J.  SADLEIR. 

"ROBERT  KEATINGE,  Esq.,  M.P., 
Shamroque  Lodge,  Clapham." 

Banks,  railways,  assurance  associations,  land  companies, 
every  undertaking  with  which  he  had  been  connected,  were 
flung  into  dismay,  and  for  months  fresh  revelations  of  fraud, 
forgery,  and  robbery  came  daily  and  hourly  to  view.  By  the 
month  of  April  the  total  of  such  discoveries  had  reached  one 
million  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds. 

While  the  three  kingdoms  were  ringing  with  this  frightful 
story,  and  the  career  of  the  Sadleir  party  was  being  recalled 
and  narrated  like  some  tale  of  a  band  of  mediaeval  banditti, 
a  piece  of  news  almost  as  astounding  burst  on  us  all.  Mr. 
Keogh  was  elevated  to  the  bench,  clothed  with  the  ermine, 
as  puisne  judge  of  the  Common  Pleas  !  More  than  twenty 
years  have  passed  away,  and  those  feelings  still  rankle  in  the 
Irish  breast.  Irishmen  could  sooner  forgive  a  defeat  in  the 
field  ;  they  could  sooner  forget  the  wounds  of  a  penal  code. 
In  the  days  that  were  now  close  at  hand,  the  agents  of  revo- 
lutionary conspiracy  found  no  more  irresistible  argument  in 
pushing  their  terrible  propaganda  among  the  people  than  a 
reference  to  this  transaction,  and  to  the  story  of  "Sadleir's 
Brigade." 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION. 

Otf  Sunday,  the  2d  of  July,  1854,  I  was  standing  with 
some  friends  outside  the  ivied  gateway  of  Holy  Cross  Abbey, 
county  Tipperary.  We  were  examining  a  curiously  sculp- 
tured stone  of  the  sixteenth  century,  built  into  the  wall  close 
by  the  northern  end  of  the  bridge  which  here  spans  the  Suir, 
when  a  cry  or  shout  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  the 
noise  of  a  horse  in  rapid  gallop  attracted  our  attention. 
Looking  quickly  around,  we  had  barely  time  to  get  out  of  the 
way  when  there  dashed  by  us  at  furious  speed  a  police  orderly, 
his  horse  all  necked  with  foam,  and  mud  spattered  to  the  top 
of  his  shako.  What  was  it  ?  Not  another  "  rising,"  surely  ? 
"  A  landlord  shot,  as  sure  as  we  live,"  exclaimed  one  of  our 
party  ;  and,  standing  where  we  did,  on  Tipperary  soil,  in  the 
midst  of  a  famous  shooting-district,  no  guess  could  have  been 
more  natural  under  all  the  circumstances.  After  a  while  we 
turned  into  the  abbey,  and,  having  spent  an  hour  amidst  the 
ruined  aisles  of  King  Donald's  church  and  the  shattered 
tombs  of  prince  and  lord,  we  forgot  for  a  moment  the  hurried 
horseman,  and  came  away.  It  was  only  when  we  returned  to 
Thurles,  after  a  brisk  walk  of  three  miles,  we  had  an  expla- 
nation of  the  incident  at  the  bridge.  "Did  you  hear  the 
news,  sir  ? — did  you  hear  the  news  ?  Garden  of  Barnane — 
the  country  is  up  in  pursuit  of  him  ;  all  the  police  are  out, 
and  the  mounted  men  are  giving  the  alarm,  and " 

"  But  what  has  he  done  ?  " 

"Done,  sir!  Didn't  you  hear?  Miss  Arbuthnot— the 
young  English  lady,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Gough,  that  he  was  mad 
11  241 


242  NEW  IRELAND. 

in  lore  with,  they  say— sure  he  tried  to  carry  her  off  ;  and 
there  was  a  bloody  battle  between  his  men,  all  armed,  and  the 
people  defending  her,  and  he  was  beat ;  but  an  orderly  has 
brought  word  to  our  sub-inspector  that  they  say  he  was  took 
an  hour  ago,  on  the  road  below  at  Farney." 

Could  we  credit  our  ears  ?  An  abduction !  Had  the 
worst  days  of  the  last  century  come  back  on  us  once  more  ?  An 
abduction,  and  by  Mr.  Garden  of  Barnane,  one  of  the  mag- 
nates of  the  county,  a  great  landlord,  grand  juror,  magistrate, 
deputy-lieutenant !  Before  nightfall  the  town  was  all  excite- 
ment over  the  story,  which  was  told  in  a  hundred  versions. 
Time  it  was  that  an  event  destined  to  startle  the  kingdom 
from  end  to  end  had  just  befallen  within  a  few  miles  of 
where  we  stood.  "For  years  past,"  said  the  Times  two  days 
subsequently,  "no  event  of  any  political  cast  has  created 
greater  excitement  than  the  adventurous  attempt  of  the  lord 
of  Barnane  to  possess  himself,  by  means  beyond  the  pale  of 
the  law,  of  a  bride  possessed  of  all  the  requisites,  personal 
and  pecuniary,  which  were  but  too  frequently  irresistible  for 
the  philosophy  of  the  Celtic  temperament." 

About  three  miles  from  Clonmel,  the  beautifully  environed 
capital  of  Sou  them  Tipperary,  stands  Rathronan  House.  The 
road  to  Cashel  leads  due  north  for  two  miles,  when,  at  Rath- 
ronan Church,  it  turns  sharply  to  the  left  and  west.  Here 
it  skirts  for  a  mile  the  southern  boundary  of  Rathronan  de- 
mesne, after  which  it  turns  again  northward.  On  this  road 
is  the  avenue-entrance  to  Rathronan  House,  the  gate-lodge 
being  half  a  mile  from  the  little  church  already  referred  to. 
In  1854  Rathronan  was  the  residence  of  Captain  the  Honor- 
able George  G-ough,  eldest  son  of  Field-Marshal  Lord  Gough, 
the  hero  of  Sobraon.  Captain  Gough  had  married  an  English 
lady,  daughter  of  Mr.  George  Arbuthnot,  of  Elderslie,  Surrey, 
and  at  this  time  two  sisters  of  Mrs.  Gough,  Laura,  the  elder, 
and  Eleanor,  the  younger,  resided  with  her.  The  fame  of 
these  fair  Saxons  rilled  the  county.  They  were  young,  hand- 
some, and  accomplished.  When  I  add  that  they  were  heir- 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  243 

esses  to  considerable  fortunes,  it  will  be  at  once  admitted  they 
were  fascinating  and  irresistible.  So  at  least  thought  all  the 
young  gallants  of  the  "upper  ten"  in Tipperary.  Eleanor 
fairly  turned  the  heads  of  several  of  them  ;  yet  her  heart  was 
obdurate  :  she  was  impartially  civil  and  cold  to  all.  Among 
these  suitors  was  "the  lord  of  Barnane,"  Mr.  John  Garden.* 
He  had  met  her  at  Marlfield,  the  charming  residence  of  Mr. 
Bagwell,  long  time  member  for  Clonmel,  and  soon  the  North 
Riding  squire  was  the  most  desperately  in  love  of  all.  He 
followed  her  everywhere.  Wherever  she  appeared — at  arch- 
ery meet  or  at  flower-show,  at  concert,  evening  party,  or 
county  ball — there  was  he,  like  one  under  a  spell,  having 
eyes  for  nothing  and  nobody  but  her.  Between  him  and 
Captain  Gough  there  existed  the  friendly  and  social  relations 
of  one  county  gentleman  with  another  constantly  met  in  the 
hunting-field  and  the  grand-jury  room  ;  but  the  families  were 
not  intimate  in  their  intercourse.  At  length  Mr.  Garden 
formally  proposed  for  the  hand  of  the  English  maiden.  He 
was  refused, — refused  under  circumstances  that  not  alone 
wounded  his  feelings,  but  caused  him  to  believe  that  he  owed 
his  repulse  not  so  much  to  any  aversion  on  the  part  of  the 
young  lady  as  to  unfair  opposition  on  the  part  of  her  family. 
Once  this  idea  took  possession  of  him,  there  was  no  displac- 
ing it.  Trifles  light  as  air  were  viewed  as  corroboration  ;  a 
fancied  glance  as  she  passed  him  in  the  street,  a  flourish  of 
her  whip  as  she  drove  by  in  the  pony-phaeton,  were  em- 
braced as  so  many  signals  that  she  really  loved  him  but  was 
under  restraint.  The  plain  truth  was,  she  cared  not  a  jot  for 
the  lord  of  Barnane.  Very  likely  she  may  have  been  for  a 
while  a  little  pleased  with  or  vain  of  his  attentions ;  but  she 
did  all  that  a  young  girl  could  well  do,  without  being  pain- 
fully rude,  to  repress  any  closer  advances  once  things  became 
serious. 

*  He  was  cousin  of  Sir  John  Garden,  of  the  Priory,  Templemore,  and 
was  called  "  Woodcock  Garden,"  so  often  had  he  been  fired  at  when 
at  one  period  of  his  life  he  was  carrying  out  extensive  evictions. 


244  NEW  IRELAND. 

The  ladies  of  Rathronan  House  were  in  the  habit  of  attend- 
ing divine  service  on  Wednesdays  at  Fethard,  a  town  distant 
northward  six  or  seven  miles.  On  Wednesday,  the  28th  of 
June,  1854,  from  one  reason  or  another'  Miss  Eleanor  and 
Mrs.  Gough  stayed  at  home,  and  the  elder  Miss  Arbuthnot, 
Laura,  and  a  young  lady  friend,  Miss  Linden,  were  driven 
to  the  church  at  Fethard,  by  a  servant  named  Hoare.  While 
he  was  engaged  in  stabling  the  horse  during  the  time  of 
service,  Hoare  was  accosted  by  Mr.  John  Garden's  confi- 
dential "man,"  Rainsberry,  who  was  very  inquisitive  and 
asked  quite  a  number  of  pumping  questions  about  the  young 
ladies.  He  elicited  from  Hoare,  at  all  events,  the  fact  that 
Miss  Eleanor  was  not  of  the  party.  Returning  home  the 
ladies  encountered  on  the  road,  at  a  place  called  Market  Hill, 
Mr.  Garden,  who  was  on  horseback,  and  it  was  observed  that 
drawn  up  close  by  was  a  carriage.  Furthermore,  Hoare 
noticed  that  soon  after  the  Rathronan  phaeton  passed  a  car 
drove  up,  containing  Rainsberry  and  four  other  men,  who 
joined  the  attendants  of  the  carriage  in  the  by-way.  These 
circumstances,  however,  seem  to  have  aroused  no  particular 
suspicions  at  the  time. 

Next  day  there  was  the  Midsummer  Flower-Show  at 
Clonmel,  the  favored  annual  rendezvous  of  the  county  gentry, 
or  rather  of  the  county  ladies.  Mr.  Garden  was  early  on  the 
ground.  He  sauntered  through  the  marquees,  and  strolled 
along  the  stands  ;  but  the  bloom  of  June  roses  had  no  charm 
for  him.  His  eyes  sought  only  the  flower  of  Rathronan. 
In  the  afternoon  she  appeared.  He  accosted  her ;  asked  how 
her  sister  was.  She  bowed,  answered  that  her  sister  was  very 
well,  and  passed  on.  All  effort  to  engage  her  in  conversation 
was  baffled. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  2d  of  July,  1854,  Mrs.  Gough, 
Miss  Arbuthnot,  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot,  and  Miss  Linden 
attended  divine  worship  at  Rathronan,  Captain  Gough  being 
all  this  time  absent  in  Dublin.  The  party  were  driven  to 
the  church  on  an  Irish  "  outside  "  car.  As  they  entered  the 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION  245 

church-yard  they  saw  standing  behind  a  tombstone,  as  if  idly 
waiting  the  commencement  of  the  service,  Mr.  Carden  of 
Barnane.  Considering  the  incident  of  AVednesday,  the  meet- 
ing at  the  flower-show,  and,  above  all,  the  fact  that  Rathro- 
nan  was  not  the  church  which  ordinarily  he  would  attend, 
they  must  have  felt  his  presence  to  be  only  a  new  demonstra- 
tion of  that  "haunting"  process  of  which  they  had  by  this 
time  become  painfully  conscious.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
attracted  general  notice,  nearly  every  one  understanding 
that  he  came  to  have  a  look  at  "Miss  Eleanor."  During  de- 
votions he  exhibited  not  a  trace  of  nervousness,  excitement, 
or  anxiety.  He  withdrew  at  the  close  of  the  regular  sen-ice  ; 
but  as  this  was  Sacrament  Sunday  the  Rathronan  ladies 
waited  to  communicate,  and  consequently  did  not  leave  at 
the  same  time. 

The  morning  had  been  so  fine  that  the  ladies  had  left 
home,  as  I  have  mentioned,  on  an  open  vehicle  ;  but  scarcely 
had  they  entered  the  church  when  heavy  showers  came  on. 
The  coachman,  Jariies  Dwyer,.  quick  in  thought,  drove  back 
to  Rathronan  (distant  three-quarters  of  a  mile),  put  up  the 
outside  jaunting-car,  and  returned  with  what  is  called  a 
"  covered  car  "  in  its  stead.  This  is  a  description  of  vehicle 
which  is  entered  at  the  back,  the  passengers  sitting  on  each 
side  vis-a-vis  within.  Dwyer  little  dreamt  how  much  was 
soon  to  turn  on  this  change  of  "traps." 

There  had  meantime  drawn  up  outside  the  Rathronan  de- 
mesne gateway  a  carriage,  to  which  were  harnessed  a  dashing 
pair  of  thoroughbreds.  Six  strange  men  were  observed  loi- 
tering about  close  by ;  and  on  the  road  outside  the  entrance 
to  the  church-yard  a  groom  led  two  saddle-horses.  When 
Mr.  Carden  quitted  the  church  he  mounted  one  of  them, 
and  rode  up  to  where  the  carriage  stood.  He  spoke  a  few 
hurried  words,  on  which  the  coachman  gripped  his  reins, 
and  the  six  "  guards,"  or  attendants,  at  once  closed  in.  Mr. 
Carden  got  off  his  horse,  and  earnestly  examined  the  hous- 
ings of  the  two  magnificent  animals  yoked  to  the  carriage. 


246  NEW  IRELAND. 

Every  strap  and  buckle,  band  and  trace,  was  minutely  and 
carefully  scrutinized  and  tested.  The  examination  con- 
cluded, lie  again  mounted  and  rode  back  toward  the  church. 
He  met  Captain  Gough's  covered  car  returning  with  the  la- 
dies. He  at  once  wheeled  round  and  closely  followed  it,  his 
horse's  head  being  barely  a  few  feet  from  the  end  of  the  vehi- 
cle. Dwyer,  the  coachman,  as  he  neared  the  gateway,  saw 
the  strange  carriage  and  the  attendants,  and  knew  that  be- 
hind was  riding  Mr.  John  Carden  of  Barnane,  the  importu- 
nate suitor  of  "the  young  mistress."  Some  thought  that 
all  was  not  right  flashed  like  lightning  through  his  mind. 
He  had  not  time  to  work  the  problem  out  to  any  very  clear 
conclusion  ;  but  as  he  neared  the  gate,  he,  with  a  sort  of  in- 
stinctive alarm,  shook  the  rein  and  cried  to  his  horse. 
Before  a  touch  of  his  whip  could  fall,  the  six  men  dashed 
forward,  seized  and  stopped  the  car.  Then  first  he  rec- 
ognized in  their  leader  Kainsberry,  and  divined  what  was 
up.  He  sprang  from  the  driving-seat  exclaiming,  "  Bains- 
berry,  you  villain,  let  go  my  horse  ;  you'll  pay  dear  for 
this  !  "  A  blow  on  the  head  from  a  skull-cracker  tumbled 
Dwyer  to  the  ground.  Rainsberry  shouted  out,  "Cut,  cut ! 
Knives,  knives  !  "  One  of  the  band  pulled  from  beneath  his 
coach  a  large  garden-knife,  freshly  sharpened,  and  with  one 
stroke  severed  the  reins  of  the  Kathronan  horse  ;  another  and 
another,  and  the  traces  hung  on  the  road.  This  was  but  the 
work  of  a  few  seconds:  years  of  terror  and  agony  they  seemed 
to  the  screaming  victims  in  the  car.  At  the  instant  the 
vehicle  was  stopped,  Mr.  Carden  jumped  from  his  horse, 
rushed  over,  and  grasped  at  Eleanor  Arbuthnot.  But  the 
whole  chapter  of  accidents  was  in  her  favor  that  day.  She 
happened  to  be  farthest  in  :  he  could  touch  her  only  by 
reaching  across  Miss  Linden,  who,  sitting  on  the  same  seat, 
was  next  the  door.  Had  the  ladies  been  on  the  outside  car 
which  bore  them  to  church  in  the  morning,  one  pull  from 
their  assailant  would  have  brought  any  of  them  to  his  feet. 
But,  placed  as  they  now  were,  they  were  considerably  shel- 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  247 

tered  from  attack  ;  and  before  Eleanor  could  be  reached  the 
other  three  had  to  be  pulled  out  and  disposed  of.  All  four 
showed  fight  in  the  most  determined  manner,  fully  realizing 
what  was  on  foot.  Mr.  Garden  succeeded  for  a  moment  in 
gripping  Eleanor.  With  desperate  energy  he  pulled  and 
strained  to  drag  her  out.  Laura  held  her  back,  and  Miss 
Linden,  drawing  her  clenched  fist  with  all  the  force  she 
could  command,  struck  the  undefended  face  of  the  deputy- 
lieutenant  a  smashing  blow.  Blood  spurted  from  his  nose 
and  streamed  down  his  face,  covering  his  shirt-front  and  vest. 
He  loosed  his  hold  and  turned  sharply  on  his  lady  assailant. 
In  vain  she  shrieked  and  struggled :  he  tore  her  furiously 
from  her  hold,  and  flung  her  on  the  side  of  the  road.  Mrs. 
Gough,  whose  condition  of  health  at  the  time  made  a  scene 
like  this  almost  certain  death  for  her,  sprang  as  best  she 
could  out  of  the  car,  and  rushed  through  the  avenue  toward 
the  house,  screaming  for  help.  A  young  peasant,  named 
McGrath,  was  the  first  to  arrive  on  the  scene.  He  saw  Cap- 
tain Gough's  herd  at  some  distance,  and  shouted  to  him 
to  hurry, — that  there  was  murder  going  on.  Then,  with 
genuine  Tipperary  vehemence,  he  dashed  into  the  fray. 
Had  it  been  a  struggle  altogether  between  men,  McGrath 
would  doubtless  have  been  perplexed  which  side  to  espouse, 
lest  he  might  by  any  mischance  be  striking  in  behalf  of 
"law  and  order," — the  police,  the  magistrates,  the  landlords, 
or  that  concatenation  of  them  all,  "the  Government."  But 
he  saw  women  attacked,  and  he  could  make  no  mistake  in 
hitting  hard  at  their  assailants.*  Mr.  Carden  returned  to 
the  car  after  hurling  Miss  Linden  aside,  and  renewed  his  en- 
deavors to  drag  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  from  her  seat.  "  Eleanor  ! 
Eleanor  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  you  I  want.  I  know  I  shall 
hang  for  this.  My  life  will  be  the  price  ! "  Laura  yet  re- 
mained with  her  ;  and  he  found  he  must  get  rid  of  the  elder 

*  He  is,  I  believe,  still  alive,  and  now  in  a  very  respectable  position. 
Miss  Arbuthnot  presented  him  with  a  handsome  gold  watch,  suitably 
Inscribed  ;  and  Lord  Gough  obtained  for  him  a  situation  in  the  Excise. 


248  NEW  IRELAND. 

sister  as  he  had  disposed  of  Miss  Linden.  After  a  long  con- 
test he  succeeded,  and  there  now  remained  in  the  vehicle  but 
the  one  whose  capture  was  the  object  of  all  his  efforts.  The 
hapless  girl  had  seen  her  companions  and  protectors  one  by 
one  torn  from  her  side,  and  now  her  turn  had  come. 
Bravely,  nobly,  all  undaunted,  would  she  fight  to  the  last ! 
She  put  her  arm  through  a  leather  hanging-strap  that  was 
fixed  beside  the  window,  and  held  on  for  dear  life.  She 
struggled  frantically  against  the  powerful  savage,  who  wildly 
pulled  and  tore  at  her  with  all  his  force.  Several  times  had 
he  succeeded  but  for  the  interference,  at  the  most  critical 
moment,  of  some  one  of  her  few  defenders  outside ;  for  all 
this  time  a  deadly  encounter  was  proceeding  on  the  road. 
McGrath,  his  head  literally  gashed  with  wounds,  Dwyer  the 
coachman,  and  Smithwick  the  herd,  also  bleeding  profusely, 
were,  ever  and  anon,  despite  the  greater  numbers  of  their 
foes,  able  to  make  a  dash  at  Mr.  Carden  and  drive  him  from 
his  hold.  But,  by  the  testimony  of  all  who  saw  that  scene, 
not  one  of  them  fought  so  daringly  as  Miss  Linden.  Again 
and  again  she  was  flung  to  the  ground  by  Mr.  Carden ;  as 
often  did  she  spring  to  her  feet  and  clutch  him  by  the  throat, 
tear  his  hair  by  the  handful,  and  pound  his  face  till  it  bled 
anew ! 

Gasping,  breathless,  almost  fainting, — he  had  received  a 
fearful  blow  of  a  stone  on  the  temple  from  McGrath, — Mr. 
Carden  cried  to  his  followers,  "  Cowards !  cowards !  come  on. 
Why  don't  you  fire  ?  why  don't  you  fire  ? "  But  happily 
they  would  not  fire,  though  in  the  carriage  close  by  fire-arms 
had  been  provided.  The  only  one  of  them  who  seemed 
ready  to  proceed  to  extremities  was  Kainsbeny.  The  others, 
as  they  subsequently  complained,  had  been  told  that  Miss 
Eleanor  Arbuthnot  was  to  be  a  consenting  party  to  the  ab- 
duction. "When  they  saw  the  turn  the  affair  had  taken,  they 
wished  to  be  well  out  of  it.  Every  moment  showed  them 
more  clearly  that  their  necks  were  being  run  into  halters, 
and  every  moment  also  lessened  their  chance  of  escape.  Help 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  249 

was  now  approaching ;  shouts  were  heard  in  the  distance. 
The  maddening  thought  forced  itself  on  Mr.  Garden  that  he 
had  failed,  and  must  fly.  Not  readily,  however,  could  he  be 
got  to  realize  the  astounding  fact.  His  attendants  almost 
forced  him  into  the  carnage,  and,  like  arrow  from  the  bended 
bow,  off  it  flew,  two  of  the  finest  blood-horses  in  all  Munster 
straining  in  the  traces. 

Clonmel  was  the  first  to  receive  the  alarm,  and  quickly  Mr. 
Goold,  the  resident  magistrate,  Mr.  Fosberry,  the  sub-inspec- 
tor of  police,  and  a  strong  party  of  constabulary  were  in  full 
chase.  They  rightly  guessed  that  the  fugitives  would  make 
for  Templemore,  and  they  dashed  away  northward.  Mean- 
while the  Kathronan  farm  steward  had  taken  horse  and  gal- 
loped to  Cashel,  where,  on  receipt  of  the  astounding  news 
which  he  brought,  Mr.  M'Cullagh,  the  sub-inspector,  with 
all  the  mounted  officers  of  his  force,  soon  took  saddle  and 
gave  pursuit.  About  three  or  four  miles  north  of  Holy  Cross, 
and  within  four  or  five  of  Barnane  gate,  is  Farney  Bridge, 
close  by  Farney  Castle,  the  picturesque  residence  of  Mr. 
Armstrong.  Here,  after  a  ride  of  ten  miles  at  full  gallop, 
they  sighted  the  carriage  going  at  a  desperate  pace.  But  Mr. 
M'Cullagh's  horses  were  fresh,  and  the  run  of  twenty  miles 
from  Eathronan,  over  very  heavy  roads,  had  told  severely  on 
Mr.  Garden's.  The  officers  soon  overhauled  the  vehicle  and 
summoned  the  occupants  to  pull  up  and  surrender.  The 
answer  was  a  shout  of  defiance.  Instantly  springing  from 
the  stirrup,  Mr.  M'Cullagh  rushed  at  the  horses,  managed  to 
seize  them,  and  by  turning  them  slightly  ran  the  carriage  into 
the  ditch.  Two  attendants  jumped  from  the  " dickey"  and 
showed  fight,  but  they  were  at  once  overpowered.  In  fact, 
Farney  police  barrack  was  quite  close  at  hand,  and  on  the 
first  noise  of  the  affray  the  men  turned  out,  arriving  in  time 
to  assist  in  the  capture  and  disarmament  of  the  whole  party. 
Mr.  Garden  was  discovered  to  be  severely  wounded  about  the 
head  and  neck.  There  were  found  upon  him  a  loaded  six- 
barreled  revolver,  a  loaded  double-barreled  pistol,  a  belt 
11* 


250  NEW  IRELAND. 

containing  three  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds  in  gold  and 
English  notes,  a  memorandum-book,  and  a  lady's  lace  vail. 
"With  the  prisoners  were  taken  three  "life-preservers,"  one 
stained  with  blood,  a  large  knife,  and  a  pouch  of  revolver 
ammunition.  In  the  carriage  were  a  coil  of  rope,  coats,  rugs, 
shawls,  quite  a  variety  of  clothing,  and  a  black  leather  bag. 
On  opening  the  bag  it  was  found  to  contain  two  bottles  of 
chloroform,  one  bottle  of  mixture,  a  sponge,  a  bottle  of 
smelling-salts,  a  bottle  of  tincture  of  valerian,  a  small  goblet, 
some  ladies'  gloves,  a  pair  of  ladies'  slippers,  a  crochet  vest, 
a  wig,  some  bandages  and  lint,  besides  minor  articles.  One 
of  the  chloroform-bottles  was  marked  "  a  teaspoonful  to  a 
cup  of  water."  From  the  following  entry  discovered  in  the 
memorandum-book  it  would  seem  that  Mr.  Garden  meant  to 
drive  through  his  own  demesne  without  stopping,  dispatch- 
ing this  written  message  to  some  trusted  agent  there  : 

"Lock  the  main  gate  ;  bully  and  baffle  all  pursuers  ;  but 
don't  endanger  life.  Lead  pursuers  to  suspect  that  I'm  shut 
up  in  the  tower.  Rake  the  gravel  at  the  house  to  remove 
tracks.  Give  a  hint  to  Johnson  to  be  a  friend  and  mislead 
the  pursuers.  Do  not  forward  my  letters,  but  write  yourself 
to  St.  James's,  and  protect  the  men  who  were  with  me." 

All,  however,  was  over  now.  His  desperate  game  was 
played  and  lost.  He  was  led  a  prisoner  to  Cashel  jail.  * 

So  incredible  did  it  seem  that  such  an  outrage  as  this  could 
happen  in  our  country  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, that  when  the  first  reports  appeared  in  the  Dublin  news- 
papers there  were  many  readers  who  derided  the  story  as  a 
sensational  fiction.  It  was  only  when  every  day  and  hour 
subsequently  brought  irresistible  corroboration  that  men  uni- 
versally accepted  as  a  fact  the  astounding  narrative,  f  The 

*  One  of  the  carriage-horses,  worth  a  hundred  and  fifty  guineas, 
dropped  dead  on  the  road,  ere  they  had  proceeded  more  than  a  mile 
toward  the  town. 

f  The  curious  influence  of  example  in  crimes  of  a  peculiar  nature  was 
soon  exemplified  in  this  case.  Within  a  week  or  two  abductions  sud- 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  251 

particulars  that  came  later  to  hand  intensified  the  general 
excitement.  It  became  known  that  the  measures  Mr.  Carden 
had  concerted  for  the  abduction  of  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot 
had  occupied  his  attention  for  a  long  period  and  had  involved 
a  considerable  expenditure.  He  had,  it  was  stated,  decided 
upon  conveying  her  to  the  shore  of  Galway  Bay  (distant 
some  fifty  miles),  where  he  had  a  steamer  chartered  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  her  off  to  sea,  relays  of  horses  being  placed 
along  the  entire  route  from  Templemore  to  Galway.  The 
vessel  with  steam  up  was  lying  off  the  shore,  and  it  was 
stated  to  be  his  intention  to  sail  direct  for  London.  These 
preparations  cost  him  a  sum  of  about  seven  thousand  pounds. 
On  Thursday,  the  27th  of  July,  1854,  the  Tipperary 
South  Eiding  assizes  were  opened  in  Clonmel  by  the  Right 
Honorable  Judge  Ball.  Hardly  within  the  memory  of  the 
oldest  inhabitant  was  there  such  a  throng  of  the  county  fami- 
lies as  filled  the  town  upon  that  day  ;  for  the  sensational  trial 
of  Mr.  John  Carden  was  to  be  the  great  item  of  the  calendar. 
The  Honorable  George  O'Callaghan,  high  sheriff,  was  in  a 
state  bordering  on  frenzy  for  several  days  previously.  Ladies, 
young,  old,  and  neuter,  hunted  him  remorselessly  from  post 
to  pillar  with  unappeasable  demands  for  admission-tickets. 
He  piteously  explained  that  a  considerable  enlargement  of 
the  county  court-house  was  impracticable  at  such  short  no- 
tice, and  that  he  feared  the  judge  would  not  listen  to  the  idea 
of  conducting  the  trial  on  the  race-course  or  in  the  fair-green. 
All  to  no  purpose.  Every  fair  persecutor  was  very  sure  she 
would  take  up  little  room, — "  hardly  any  at  all," — and  could 
easily,  "if  he  pleased,"  be  provided  with  a  nook  whence  she 
could  see  that  poor  mad  creature  Mr.  Carden,  dear  soul,  who 
had,  "loved  not  wisely  but  too  well,"  and  so  forth  ;  and  it 


denly  reappeared  in  several  parts  of  the  country.  A  few  days  after 
the  Rathronan  attempt  a  Tipperary  policeman  carried  off  a  respectable 
young  girl  from  her  friends  ;  and  at  Cork,  John  Walsh,  a  printer,  was 
committed  for  the  abduction  of  Mary  Spillane,  a  girl  under  eighteen  years 
of  age,  who  was  entitled  to  a  good  fortune  on  attaining  her  majority. 


252  NEW  IRELAND. 

was  nothing  but  downright  ill  nature,  to  be  resented  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  for  him,  the  high  sheriff,  or  Sam  Going,  his 
surly  "sub,"  to  say  the  places  were  already  assigned.  He 
fled  the  town, — was  "not  at  home "  to  inquirers, — but  they 
pushed  their  way  into  his  study  all  the  same.  Then  he  took 
to  his  bed,  and  gave  out  that  he  was  very  ill, — a  combination 
of  measles  and  whooping-cough,  with  a  touch  of  scarlatina 
the  Chronicle  newspaper  said  it  was  ;  but  the  delightful  beings 
would  penetrate  to  the  side  of  his  couch,  and  while  he  groaned 
out  from  under  the  counterpane  that  except  the  dock  there 
was  not  an  inch  of  space  undisposed  of,  they  gave  him  "bits 
of  their  mind  "  in  return,  which  they  assured  him  he  would 
never  be  allowed  to  forget ! 

It  is  not  to  be  concluded  that  the  sterner  sex  were  at  all 
less  earnest  in  their  persecutions.  But  it  was  not  Mr.  Garden 
they  wanted  to  see.  "One  glimpse  at  that  lovely,  that 
heroic  girl,"  was  begged  and  scrambled  for  with  wild  enthu- 
siasm. "Sure  you  can  see  her  some  other  time,"  expos- 
tulated poor  Mr.  Going.  The  result  of  such  observations  on 
his  part  was  his  exclusion  from  "  society "  in  the  South 
Eiding  for  several  seasons  afterward. 

Jamgue  dies  infnnda  aderat.  Old  Judge  Ball,  grandly 
preceded  by  halberdiers  and  pikemen  and  trumpeters,  and 
attended  by  the  truly  unhappy  sheriff  "  in  state,"  went  down 
to  the  court-house.  The  Honorable  Cornwallis  Maude,  fore- 
man of  the  grand  jury,  having  listened  to  his  lordship's 
opening  address,  retired  with  his  brethren  for  a  while.  Soon 
they  returned  into  court  with  a  "  true  bill "  against  their 
long-time  friend  and  fellow-magistrate,  Mr.  John  Garden, 
for  the  forcible  abduction  of  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  of 
Eathronan.  It  was  known  that  great  legal  contention  would 
arise  as  to  whether  Mr.  Garden  could  be  said  in  law  to  have 
effected  the  "abduction,"  as  he  had  not  succeeded  in  re- 
moving the  young  lady  from  the  car.  To  guard  against 
mishap,  the  Crown  sent  up  minor  indictments  for  attempted 
abduction  and  for  aggravated  assault.  On  these  also  true 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTTON.  253 

bills  were  returned.  The  jury  acquitted  the  prisoner  on  the 
charge  of  abduction.  Next  day  he  was  arraigned  for  the 
attempt  to  abduct,  and  was  found  guilty.  A  third  time,  on 
the  following  Monday,  he  was  put  on  trial  for  a  felonious 
assault  on  Smith  wick,  the  Kathronan  herd.  This  was  very 
generally  felt  to  be  an  overdoing  of  the  business  by  the  pros- 
ecution, and  sympathy  with  the  prisoner  was  openly  ex- 
pressed on  all  sides.  When  the  jury  this  time  handed  down 
a  verdict  of  "  not  guilty,"  there  was  "  loud  cheering  "  in  the 
court,  "the  ladies  waving  their  handkerchiefs."  More  as- 
tonishing was  the  fact  that  the  crowd  assembled  outside  the 
building — belonging  to  a  class  with  whom  Mr.  Garden,  as  a 
landlord,  was  no  great  favorite — gave  vent  to  like  demonstra- 
tions. Before  sentence  was  passed  he  obtained  permission 
from  the  judge  to  make  some  observations,  and  he  addressed 
the  court  with  great  ability,  exhibiting  considerable  tact, 
delicacy,  and  judgment  in  all  he  said.  He  disclaimed 
earnestly,  and  I  verily  believe  with  perfect  truth,  the  un- 
worthy motives  as  to  personal  resentment,  malice,  or  gain 
that  had  been  imputed  to  him.  He  solemnly  declared  that 
he  had  not  "  the  slightest  idea  or  knowledge  of  the  delicate 
state  of  Mrs.  Gough's  health."  "  If  I  had  been  aware  of  it," 
he  added,  "  I  certainly  would  have  forbidden  the  maldng  of 
any  such  criminal  attempt."  Lastly,  he  indignantly  repelled 
the  idea  that  the  drugs  found  in  the  carriage  were  intended 
for  the  purpose  of  producing  insensibility. 

This  address  was  listened  to  with  breathless  attention,  and 
beyond  all  question  elicited  much  feeling  for  the  man  against 
whom  but  a  brief  week  before  every  voice  was  raised.  The 
judge,  however,  took  a  justly  stern  view  of  the  facts,  and 
sentenced  Mr.  Garden  to  two  years'  imprisonment  with  hard 
labor  in  the  county  jail.  On  the  following  day  the  Tipper -ary 
Free  Press  announced  that  already  the  unfortunate  "lord 
of  Barnane,"  clothed  in  prison-garb,  had  commenced  the 
dreary  expiation  invoked  upon  him  by  a  passion  which  even 
this  ordeal  was  not  to  extinguish. 


254  NEW  IRELAND. 

Three  years  rolled  by.  Every  one  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten the  Kathronan  episode,  when  suddenly  in  the  news- 
papers there  appeared  the  startling  heading,  "Mr.  John 
Garden  again  !  Further  attempts  on  Miss  Arbuthnot  !  " 

In  these  sensational  announcements  he  was  somewhat 
wronged ;  yet  the  story  was  strange  enough  in  its  simple 
truth.  Imprisonment,  humiliation,  mental  and  physical 
suffering,  public  scorn,  the  relentless  hostility  of  her  friends, 
had  failed  to  shake  Mr.  Garden's  infatuation  for  Miss  Ar- 
buthnot. He  followed  her  unseen.  He  inquired  about  her 
movements,  and  seemed  happy  only  when,  at  all  events,  near 
the  spot  of  earth  which  she  irradiated.  The  young  lady,  on 
the  other  hand,  suffered  the  exquisite  torture  of  ever-present 
apprehension.  She  knew  her  tormentor  was  around.  He 
had  managed  to  reach  her  presence  and  speak  to  her  once  at 
least  subsequently  to  his  release,  having  followed  her  to  El- 
derslie  in  Surrey.  On  this  occasion  his  excited  manner  quite 
affrighted  her.  In  October,  1858,  she  was  staying  with  her 
sister,  now  Lady  Gough,  at  St.  Helen's,  near  Blackrock, 
county  Dublin,  when  the  woman  who  kept  the  gate-lodge  one 
morning  reported  an  alarming  story.  For  two  or  three  days 
consecutively  a  well-dressed  female  had  been  calling  at  the 
lodge,  inquiring  as  to  Miss  Eleanor's  movements, — at  what 
times  she  went  out,  and  whether  she  ever  walked  by  herself 
in  the  demesne.  At  length — so  the  lodge-keeper  averred — 
the  mysterious  stranger  revealed  that  she  came  from  Mr. 
Garden,  and  that  a  large  sum  of  money  would  be  given  if 
he  were  assisted  to  an  interview  with  the  young  lady  in  the 
house  or  grounds.  This  was  not  the  only  story  which  reached 
Miss  Arbuthnot.  She  was  told  her  demented  persecutor  had 
declared  that  when  the  Gough  family  went  to  live  at  Lough 
Cooter  Castle  (recently  purchased  by  them),  "which  was  a 
lonely  place,  he  could  easily  carry  her  off."  Things  seemed 
to  be  getting  serious  :  so  on  the  next  visit  of  Mr.  Garden's 
female  ambassador  to  the  gate-lodge  she  was  seized  and 
handed  over  to  the  police.  Informations  were  sworn  against 


THE  ARB  UTHNO T  ABD  UCTION.  255 

Mr.  Garden,  who  was  forthwith  arrested  and  called  upon  to 
give  substantial  securities  that  he  would  not  molest  or  annoy 
Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot.  Once  more  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  the  old  excitement.  The  police  court  at  Kingstown  was 
this  time  the  scene  of  a  protracted  trial.  It  became  evident 
there  had  been  a  good  deal  of  panic  exaggeration  on  the 
part  of  the  lodge-keeper.  It  was  equally  clear  there  had 
been  much  crafty  duplicity  practiced  by  the  female  ambassa- 
dor. She  had  been  formerly  a  domestic  in  the  employ  of 
Miss  Arbuthnot's  family,  and  recently  saw  her  advantage  in 
engaging  as  housekeeper  to  Mr.  Garden.  She  knew  his  weak- 
ness, and  flattered  it.  She  pretended  to  have  interviews  with 
Miss  Eleanor,  and  brought  him  cheering  messages.  In  short, 
the  magistrate  saw  that  on  this  occasion  Mr.  Garden  was  very 
nearly  "as  much  sinned  against  as  sinning."  Nevertheless 
he  deemed  it  prudent  to  bind  him  in  heavy  penalties  to  be  of 
the  peace  the  space  of  one  year, — a  requirement  which  he 
resignedly  fulfilled.  That  year  flew  by,  and  many  more,  and 
still  he  trod  his  solitary  path  through  life  unshaken  in  the 
conviction  that  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  loved  the  man  she  pub- 
licly spurned.  The  fact  that  she  never  married  another 
perhaps  strengthened  his  hallucination.  It  is  said  he  more 
than  once  traveled  secretly  to  Lough  Cooter,  to  catch,  unseen, 
one  glimpse  of  her  on  the  road  or  in  the  grounds,  and  then 
returned  as  he  went. 

Tipperary,  the  North  Eiding  especially,  is  full  of  the 
most  astonishing  stories  of  this  remarkable  character.  At 
the  time  of  the  abduction  he  was  about  fifty-four  years  of 
age.  He  was  a  compactly  built,  muscular  man  ;  about  five 
feet  six  inches  in  height ;  haughty,  perhaps  it  might  be  said 
overbearing,  with  strangers,  and  not  given  to  forming  friend- 
ships. Yet  he  was  warmly  regarded  by  his  dependants ; 
and,  fiercely  stern  as  was  his  dealing  with  some  of  his 
tenantry,  many  of  them — those  who  experienced  his  better 
qualities — spoke  and  speak  of  him  in  the  highest  terms. 
He  was  educated  in  England,  and  on  attaining  his  majority 


256  NEW  IRELAND. 

found  his  property  had  been  "under  the  courts,"  as  the 
people  say, — under  a  Chancery  receiver, — for  several  years, 
owing  to  litigation.  The  tenants  making  some  pretext  out 
of  this  state  of  things,  thought  to  escape  paying  him  the 
rent.  He  came  home  to  Barnane,  summoned  them  all  to 
meet  him  on  a  given  day,  and  announced  to  them  his  ulti- 
matum,— rent  or  land,  pay  or  quit.  They  had  the  repute  of 
being  a  desperate  lot,  and  they  apparently  relied  on  this  to 
intimidate  him.  The  rent  they  would  not  pay  ;  the  land 
they  would  keep  ;  having  reasons,  they  said,  to  justify  the 
former  resolve,  and  determination  to  maintain  the  latter. 
But  they  knew  not  their  man.  He  said  nothing  more  just 
then,  but  forthwith  proceeded  to  put  Barnane  Castle  into 
fortress  condition.  Blacksmiths  and  carpenters  were  set  to 
work  to  make  the  doors  and  window-shutters  bullet-proof  ; 
and  when  this  was  done  a  goodly  stock  of  provisions  was 
laid  in.  Local  tradition  asserts  that  he  had  the  stairs  cut 
away,  and  the  interior  of  the  castle  so  arranged  that  if  the 
first  story  was  forced  he  could  retreat  to  the  next,  and,  by 
pulling  up  a  ladder,  cut  off  all  communication.  He  now 
commenced  operations  in  the  law-courts.  Ejectment  decrees 
were  taken  out  against  the  tenants,  and  the  work  of  eviction 
began.  It  was  open  war  between  him  and  them.  I  am  told 
that  when  any  of  "  the  enemy"  surrendered  he  not  only  re- 
stored them  to  their  land,  but  treated  them  liberally  as  to 
terms.  Those  who  refused  to  submit  were  remorselessly  ex- 
pelled. Of  course  he  was  shot  at,— again  and  again ;  but, 
with  miraculous  good  fortune,  he  always  escaped.  His 
pluck,  his  daring,  extorted  the  admiration  of  friend  and  foe. 
One  day,  as  he  was  riding  along  the  road  toward  Nenagh, 
he  was  fired  at  by  two  men  in  an  adjoining  field.  He  faced 
his  horse  round,  and,  although  it  was  truly  a  stiff  jump, 
cleared  the  fence  at  a  bound,  galloped  after  his  would-be  assas- 
sins, struck  one  of  them  senseless  with  a  blow  from  his  loaded 
riding- whip,  then  overtook  the  other,  dismounted,  and,  after 
a  desperate  struggle,  captured  him.  He  deliberately  took  off 


TEE  AEBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  257 

the  stirrup-leathers,  and  with  them  bound  his  prisoners  and 
marched  them  into  Nenagh  jail.  They  were  tried  for  the 
crime,  convicted  on  his  evidence,  and  hanged.  It  was,  I 
believe,  during  this  "  war"  that  the  insurgent  tenantry  in  a 
body  marched  on  the  castle,  but  found  him  so  securely 
barricaded  that  he  could  not  be  got  at.  They,  however,  had 
prepared  to  take  revenge  on  him  in  another  way.  They  had 
brought  with  them  a  number  of  horses  and  plows,  and 
now  commenced  to  plow  up  the  beautiful  and  extensive 
lawn  before  the  hall -door.  Mr.  Carden  had  a  swivel- 
mounted  cannon  on  the  top  of  the  castle  :  he  loaded  it  with 
grape-shot  in  view  of  the  plowmg-party,  and  then  sang 
out  to  them  that  they  had  ten  minutes  to  depart.  They  un- 
yoked in  five  and  galloped  off. 

In  the  last  few  years  of  his  life  his  eccentricity  took  a 
curious  turn.  He  converted  the  castle  into  a  vast  hotel,  and 
erected  very  extensive  and  costly  Turkish  baths.  I  am  not 
sure  that  he  ever  threw  the  establishment  open  to  the  public 
in  the  ordinary  way,  but  visitors  or  tourists  passing  the  way 
were,  I  am  told,  very  hospitably  received.  Some  six  years 
ago  he  was  attacked  with  apoplexy,  and  never  rallied.  His 
death  once  more  recalled  his  name  to  public  notice ;  and, 
with  all  his  failings,  the  general  sentiment  was  one  of  com- 
passion and  regret  for  one  so  strangely  compounded  of  merit 
and  demerit.  I  know  not  who  succeeded  to  his  estates, 
or  whether  the  castle  and  its  beautiful  grounds  are  visited  as 
of  yore  ;  but  for  many  a  generation  yet  to  come  the  story  of 
his  life  and  adventures — most  of  all  the  Rathronan  abduc- 
tion— will  thrill  listening  groups  around  the  firesides  at  Tip- 
perary. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE   PHCEXIX   CONSPIRACY. 

IF  the  absence  of  political  life  and  action  could  be  called 
tranquility,  or  torpor  be  deemed  repose,  Ireland  from  1852 
to  1858  enjoyed  that  peaceful  rest,  that  cessation  from  agita- 
tion, which  so  many  authorities  declared  to  be  the  one  thing 
wanting  for  her  prosperity  and  happiness.  With  the  over- 
throw and  ruin  of  the  Tenant-Eight  movement  in  1852  there 
set  in  a  state  of  things  which  ought  to  have  gladdened  the 
hearts  of  all  such  monitors.  Never  before,  since,  in  the 
Emancipation  campaign  of  1820-1829,  the  body  of  the  nation 
entered  into  the  purposes  and  practices  of  public  life,  had 
Ireland  been  without  some  popular  organization  or  move- 
ment that  gave  a  voice  to  the  national  aspirations.  This 
political  activity,  which  to  many  eyes  seemed  so  deplorable, 
at  one  time  occupied  itself  with  Catholic  Emancipation,  at 
another  with  Corporate  Reform,  at  another  with  the  Tithe 
question  ;  for  a  long  period  with  Repeal,  for  a  short  one  with 
Land-tenure.  But  now  the  temple  of  Janus  was  closed. 
Political  action  ceased.  The  last  endeavor  of  the  Irish 
masses  to  accomplish  ameliorations  within  the  lines  of  the 
constitution  had  been  baffled  and  crushed.  By  skillful  exer- 
cise of  ( '  patronage  "  the  Government  had  bought  off  the 
leaders  and  exploded  the  hopes  and  plans  of  the  Tenant 
Leaguers.  No  direct  political  defeat  could  have  accomplished 
so  decisive  a  dispersion  of  the  popular  organization.  It  was 
not  merely  that  the  people  were  driven  beaten  from  the  par- 
liamentary field,  but  that  they  were  routed  under  circum- 
stances which  forbade  a  rally.  Their  faith  in  one  another, 

258 


TEE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY.  259 

their  confidence  in  leaders,  their  reliance  on  constitutional 
effort, — all,  all  were  swept  away.  To  the  eye  of  the  super- 
ficial observer,  Ireland  was  in  1856  more  really  and  com- 
pletely "pacified"  than  at  any  period  since  the  time  of 
Strongbow.  Repeal  was  buried.  Disaffection  had  disap- 
peared. Nationality  was  unmentioned.  Not  a  shout  was 
raised.  Not  even  a  village  tenant-right  club  survived.  The 
people  no  longer  interested  themselves  in  politics.  Who 
went  into  or  who  went  out  of  Parliament  concerned  them 
not.  The  "  agitator's  "  voice  was  heard  no  more.  All  was 
silence.  Eest  and  peace,  some  called  it.  Sullen  indifference 
and  moody  despair  others  judged  it  to  be. 

I  do  not  believe  that  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  eighteenth 
century  a  lower  level  of  public  spirit,  a  lower  tone  of  politi- 
cal morality,  prevailed  in  Ireland  than  at  this  time.  The 
chill  of  disappointment,  the  shock  of  recent  events,  drove 
into  retirement  the  best  elements  of  public  society.  The 
fierce  violence  and  unsparing  passion  with  which  the  contro- 
versies and  resentments  arising  out  of  those  events  were  pur- 
sued belonged  less  to  regular  political  combat  than  to  a  sav- 
age guerilla  warfare.  In  such  a  state  of  circumstances 
public  life  was  almost  wholly  abandoned  to  the  self-seeking 
and  adventurous.  Good  faith,  honesty,  consistency,  sincerity 
in  political  affairs,  were  cynically  scoffed  at  and  derided. 
"  Every  one  for  himself  and  the  Castle  for  us  all "  was  the 
motto  of  the  hour.  The  political  arena  was  regarded  simply 
as  a  mart  in  which  everything  went  to  the  highest  bidder ; 
and  the  speculator  who  netted  the  most  gains  was  the  man 
most  applauded.  Such  was  political  Ireland  in  1856. 

The  schism  which  split  the  ranks  of  the  Young  Ireland  or 
Confederate  party  in  1848 — referred  to  in  a  previous  chapter 
— never  was  really  closed.  The  principles  developed  on  each 
hand  in  that  controversy  were  very  distinct  and  strongly 
marked.  The  bulk  of  the  national  party,  though  swept  into 
insurrection  amidst  the  fever  of  '48,  held  the  views  of  O'Brien, 
Meagher,  Dillon,  Duffy,  O'Gorman,  and  Doheny,  expressed 


260  NEW  IRELAND. 

in  the  Confederation  debate  of  the  4th  of  February  in  that 
year.  They  never  based  their  policy 'on  revolution.  It  was 
regarded  as  a  contingency  not  to  be  shrunk  from  if  absolutely 
forced  upon  them,  but  one  so  remote  as  to  be  beyond  the 
range  of  practical  concern.  The  minority  embraced  revolu- 
tion, not  merely  as  a  possible  contingency,  but  as  the  only 
one  to  be  contemplated  and  prepared  for.  They  laid  the 
failure  of  the  insurrection  upon  the  "rose-water"  policy  of 
Duffy  and  O'Brien.  The  wounded  pride,  the  bitter  mortifi- 
cation, with  which  the  result  of  that  attempt  was  attended 
for  them,  intensified  their  feelings.  They  would  not  accept 
what  had  taken  place  as  any  test  whatever  of  their  policy, 
principles,  or  plans.  The  loaded  gun  had  miserably  missed 
fire ;  that  was  all.  When  they  found  Gavan  Duffy,  on  his 
release  from  prison,  in  the  revived  Nation,  falling  back  on 
a  constitutional  and  parliamentary  policy,  their  anger  and 
scorn  were  very  bitter.  They  assailed  him  with  taunt  and 
invective ;  but  he  carried  the  country  along  with  him,  and 
O'Brien,  Meagher,  O'Doherty,  and  other  of  the  State  pris- 
oners indorsed  and  approved  his  course.  The  Separatists, 
few  in  number,  were  put  to  silence  for  the  time ;  but  they 
continued  to  regard  with  undisguised  hostility  the  line  of 
policy  which  the  Nation  pursued. 

Through  all  the  course  of  Irish  politics  from  1848  down- 
ward, the  divergence  and  conflict  of  these  two  sections  of 
the  national  party  may  be  traced,  and  have  to  be  kept  in 
mind.  Half  the  blunders  of  English  politicians,  in  dealing 
with  the  passing  incidents  of  domestic  Irish  affairs,  arise 
from  ignorance  of  this  state  of  things.  A  correct  apprecia- 
tion of  it  supplies  a  key  to  many  apparently  perplexing 
problems.  The  Constitutional  Nationalists,  looking  to 
Henry  Grattan  as  their  founder,  and  the  Revolutionary 
Nationalists,  or  Separatists,  taking  Wolfe  Tone  as  theirs, 
have  operated,  and  still  operate,  sometimes  together,  often 
in  conflict,  in  Irish  politics,  down  to  the  present  day. 

Amidst  the  fervor  with  which  the  people  embraced  the 


THE  PH(ENIX  CONSPIRACY.  261 

Tenant-Right  agitation  of  1850,  the  separatist  and  revolu- 
tionary principles,  momentarily  embraced  a  few  years  before, 
seemed  almost  extinguished  in  Ireland ;  but  abroad — in 
America  and  elsewhere — the  refugees  of  the  '48  movement, 
with  one  or  two  important  exceptions,  invincibly  retained 
the  violent  determinations  of  that  time.  Two  of  these  ref- 
ugees, Mr.  John  O'Mahony  and  Mr.  James  Stephens,  had 
settled  for  some  time  in  Paris  after  their  escape  from  Ire- 
land in  1848.  They  there  fell  into  the  society  of  men  who, 
during  the  "year  of  revolutions,"  in  various  parts  of 
Europe,  from  Vienna  to  Rome,  had  played  a  part  much  like 
their  own ;  and  soon,  in  what  may  be  called  the  central 
training-school  of  European  revolutionism,  they  learned 
that  the  way  to  begin  was  by  a  secret  society.  After  a  resi- 
dence of  a  few  years  in  the  French  capital,  O'Mahony  pro- 
ceeded to  America.  Stephens  quietly  returned  to  Ireland, 
and  engaged  himself  as  private  tutor  to  a  gentleman  residing 
near  Killarney.  Before  parting,  they  had  both  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  if  ever  their  principles  were  to  have 
another  opportunity  of  promulgation  in  Ireland  it  should 
be  in  accordance  with  the  skillful  tactics  they  had  learned 
in  Paris.  But  they  grievously  feared  that  what  they  exe- 
crated as  the  retrograde  movement  of  the  popular  party  at 
home,  under  Duffy's  guidance,  had  rendered  any  such  con- 
tingency hopelessly  remote. 

They  little  thought  how  near  it  was  at  hand.  The  over- 
throw and  virtual  suppression  of  the  Tenant  League,  utterly 
breaking  the  hope  of  the  people  in  such  political  efforts, 
cleared  the  field  and  removed  the  obstacles  which  the  dream- 
ing conspirators  thus  deplored.  With  joy  they  saw  the  peo- 
ple abandon  public  politics,  and  well  knew  how,  brooding 
in  despair,  they  would  weigh  the  miseries  contested  elections 
had  brought  on  their  heads  against  the  worst  that  could  be- 
fall them  on  a  more  violent  course.  The  "calm"  of  Irish 
politics  from  '52  to  '58,  that  so  delighted  superficial  observ- 
ers, was  in  truth  the  worst  symptom  in  the  course  of  half  a 


262  NEW  IRELAND. ' 

century.  Still,  the  disheartenment  was  so  great,  the  revul- 
sion of  feeling  so  complete,  that  although  the  people  had 
given  up  constitutional  efforts  it  was  by  no  means  clear  they 
would  care  to  try  any  other.  For  a  long  while  no  opportu- 
nity presented  itself  for  launching  the  revolutionary  experi- 
ment. 

In  the  summer  of  1857  Mr.  Smith  O'Brien — who  had 
previously  been  liberated  from  his  confinement  at  Hobart 
Town,  on  condition  of  not  returning  to  Ireland — was  allowed 
to  return  under  an  unconditional  amnesty.  His  former  status 
was  fully  restored  in  every  respect,  except  a  special  exclusion 
from  his  otherwise  rightful  rank  and  title  as  brother  of  a 
peer ;  his  eldest  brother  having  quite  recently,  on  the  death 
of  the  Marquis  of  Thomond,  become  Lord  Inchiquin.  Almost 
the  only  sign  of  popular  interest  in  politics  which  could  be 
noted  in  Ireland  at  the  time  was  the  satisfaction  which  his 
return  called  forth,  and  the  tender  to  him  forthwith  of  the 
representation  of  an  Irish  constituency  in  Parliament.  He, 
however,  refused  to  resume  any  prominent  position  in  active 
public  life,  although  he  by  no  means  disclaimed  a  deep  feel- 
ing of  interest  in  Irish  questions.  He  devoted  the  summer 
of  1858  to  a  quiet  tour  through  the  country,  evidently  curi- 
ous to  see  what  changes  the  ten  eventful  years  just  past  had 
brought  about.  In  several  places  he  was  welcomed  with 
manifestations  of  respect  and  affection,  though  he  avoided 
and  seemed  to  deprecate  "public  demonstrations"  of  any 
sort.  At  Clonmel,  the  town  in  which  he  had  been  sentenced 
to  execution  as  a  traitor,  he  was  presented  with  an  address,  to 
which  he  delivered  a  reply  marked  by  that  quiet  dignity  and 
that  inflexibility  of  public  principle  which  were  with  him  old 
characteristics.  He  referred  sadly  to  the  incidents  of  '48, 
but  proudly  affirmed  that  the  convictions  and  principles  for 
which  he  was  then  ready  to  lay  down  his  life — the  right  of 
Ireland  to  her  native  constitutional  form  of  government — 
were  firm  and  unshaken  as  ever.  This  avowal  called  forth 
a  remarkable  article  in  the  Times, — remarkable  read  by  the 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY.  263 

light  of  events  near  at  hand.  The  great  English  journal 
declared  the  roar  of  this  toothless  lion  need  disturb  no  one. 
Irish  disaffection  was  dead  and  buried, — would  never  trouble 
England  more.  The  tranquility,  the  contentment,  the  loy- 
alty of  the  Irish  people  showed  that  the  days  of  agitators  and 
rebels  were  past,  never  to  return. 

While  the  Times,  exultant  in  these  assumed  facts,  was 
pelting  them  tauntingly  at  O'Brien,  the  Government  in 
Dublin  Castle  were  making  preparations  to  pounce  upon  a 
new  conspiracy.  Within  a  month  we  were  once  more  in  the 
midst  of  proclamations,  police  razzias,  arrests,  and  State 
trials. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Indian  mutiny  had  greatly  excited 
the  revolutionary  party  among  Irishmen  at  home  and  in 
America.  It  looked  like  the  beginning  of  a  protracted  and 
perilous  struggle  for  England ;  perhaps  of  her  overthrow. 
On  this  occasion,  as  during  the  Crimean  War,  Ireland  was 
denuded  of  troops.  Here,  they  reflected,  were  two  signal 
opportunities  for  revolt  lost  through  want  of  preparation.  It 
was  determined  forthwith  to  make  a  beginning  with  the 
long-meditated  project  of  a  secret  society. 

Some  young  men — mercantile  assistants  and  others — in 
the  town  of  Skibbereen  had,  about  this  time,  established  a 
political  club  or  reading-room,  called  the  Phoenix  National 
and  Literary  Society.  It  might  have  gone  the  way  of  many 
a  similar  institution,  and  never  been  heard  of  beyond  the 
local  precincts,  but  for  a  visit  which  Mr.  James  Stephens 
paid  to  that  neighborhood  in  May,  1858.  He  had  been 
struck  by  the  rather  independent  and  -defiant  spirit  of  some 
observations  reported  from  one  of  its  meetings,  and  judged 
that  among  these  men  he  would  find  material  for  the  work 
he  had  in  hand.  Foremost  in  a  sort  of  careless  audacity  and 
resolute  will  was  one,  already  quite  popular,  or,  as  "the  au- 
thorities" in  Skibbereen  would  say,  a  "  ringleader,"  with 
young  men  of  his  class, — Jeremiah  Donovan.  He  was  not 
only  given  to  Gaelic  studies,  but  he  exhibited  a  love  for  his- 


264  NEW  IRELAND. 

torico-genealogical  research  which  was  quite  alarming  to  the 
local  gentry.  He  very  shortly  resumed  the  "0  "  to  his 
name ;  and,  as  his  people  belonged  to  Boss,  he  adopted  the 
distinguishing  Gaelic  affix  "Rossa,"  *  thenceforward  signing 
his  name — one  now  well  known  in  Ireland,  England,  and 
Scotland — Jeremiah  O'Donovan,  Rossa." 

One  evening  in  May,  1858,  O'Donovan — or  "Eossa,"  as 
it  may  be  more  convenient  to  call  him,  although  he  was  not 
generally  known  by  this  affix  for  some  time  after — was  called 
upon  by  a  companion  who  had  something  important  to  com- 
municate under  the  seal  of  secresy.  A  mysterious  "stranger" 
had  come  to  town  on  a  startling  mission.  The  Irishmen  in 
America,  he  declared,  had  resolved  to  aid  the  men  at  home 
in  achieving  the  independence  of  Ireland,  and  the  aid  was  to 
consist  of  arms  and  of  men.  Eossa  goes  on  to  tell  the  rest : 
"If  we  had  a  certain  number  of  men  sworn  to  fight,  there 
would  be  an  equal  number  of  arms  in  Ireland  for  these  men 
when  enrolled,  and  an  invading  force  of  from  five  to  ten 
thousand  men  before  the  start.  The  arms  were  to  be  in  the 
country  bofore  the  men  would  be  asked  to  stir ;  they  would 
not  be  given  into  their  hands,  but  were  to  be  kept  in  hiding- 
places  until  the  appointed  time,  when  every  Center  could 
take  his  men  to  the  spot  and  get  the  weapons.  As  soon  as 
we  had  enrolled  the  men  willing  to  fight,  we  were  to  get 
military  instructors  to  teach  us  how  to  do  as  soldiers." 

Nothing  could  possibly  have  been  more  to  the  heart  of 
Eossa  than  this  enterprise.  He  jumped  at  it,  he  says,  "  and 
next  day  I  inoculated  a  few  others,  whom  I  told  to  go  and 
do  likewise."  Before  a  month  had  elapsed,  out  of  one  hun- 
dred young  men  on  the  books  of  the  "  Literary  Society," 
ninety  had  been  sworn  in  to  this  secret  organization. 

Such  was  the  start  of  Fenianism.  The  "mysterious 
stranger"  was  Mr.  James  Stephens. 

*  Subdivisions  of  Irish  families  or  clans  were  sometimes  distin- 
guished, one  from  another,  in  this  way  :  as  "  O'Connor,  Kerry," 
"  O'Sullivan,  Bear  (or  Beara),"  etc. 


THE  PH(ENIX  CONSPIEACT.  265 

Mr.  Stephens  well  enough  knew  that  the  national  party, 
so  fur  as  it  was  represented  by  the  Nation  newspaper, — by 
Smith  O'Brien  and  Gavan  Duffy, — would  resent  this  effort ; 
that,  in  fact,  the  feud  between  the  two  sections  was  sure  to 
be  resuscitated  over  such  a  project.  Ordinarily  it  would  bo 
impossible  to  make  much  headway  with  a  national  or  popu- 
lar movement,  open  or  secret,  which  the  Nation  opposed ; 
but  there  were  reasons  for  making  light  of  any  such  diffi- 
culty now.  The  break-down  of  Mr.  Duffy's  parliamentary 
policy,  through  the  Sadleir-Keogh  betrayal,  was  not  unna- 
turally presumed  to  have  weakened  the  influence  of  the 
Nation ;  and  I,  who  had  but  a  short  time  previously  suc- 
ceeded to  Mr.  Duffy's  position  in  the  Nation  office,  was 
young,  little  known,  and  devoid  of  his  great  experience  and 
influence.  In  the  southwestern  angle  of  the  island,  formed 
by  portions  of  Cork  and  Kerry,  a  very  brisk  enrollment  went 
on;  the  "secresy,"  however,  being  absurdly  inefficient. 
In  the  course  of  the  summer  I  was  made  aware  that  some 
persons  had  been  freely  using  the  name  of  Mr.  Smith 
O'Brien,  of  Mr.  John  Mitchel,  myself,  and  others,  in 
mysterious  whispers  about  the  power  of  the  movement  and 
the  approval  given  to  it.  Whether  such  idle  stories  were 
worth  contradicting  was  doubtful  ;  yet  it  seemed  a  serious 
moral  responsibility  to  remain  silent.  I  could  not  tell 
what  Mr.  MitchePs  views  might  be, — he  was  in  America, 
— but  I  thought  it  likely  he  would  favor  such  a  scheme.  * 
The  views  of  the  other  gentlemen — of  Smith  O'Brien  espe- 
cially— I  well  knew  to  be  utterly  averse  to  anything  of  the 
kind.  Meanwhile  a  new  urgency  appeared.  The  Catholic 
Bishop  of  Kerry,  the  Most  Eev.  Dr.  Moriarty,  called  upon 
me  one  day  to  say  that  within  the  past  hour  he  had  heard 
from  a  Government  official  a  minute  account  of  the  "  Phoenix 
Society"  conspiracy  in  his  diocese.  "It  is  no  use  pooh- 
poohing  such  work,"  said  he  :  "  the  Government  are  prepar- 
ing to  treat  it  seriously,  and  are  in  possession  of  full  informa- 

*  In  this  I  was  wrong,  as  I  afterward  discovered. 
12 


266  NEW  IRELAND. 

tion.  A  friendly  warning  in  the  Nation  may  disperse  the 
whole  danger,  and  bring  these  young  men  back  to  reason. 
At  all  events,  you  will  save  others  from  being  involved  in 
the  catastrophe."  Other  newspapers  had  already  been  mak- 
ing public  references  to  the  subject :  still  I  disliked  the  role 
of  "  alarmist."  I  consulted  with  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon,  Mr. 
Kevin  O'Doherty,  and  other  such  friends  near  at  hand,  and 
wrote  to  Mr.  Smith  O'Brien,  stating  the  case,  and  asking 
him  what  I  ought  to  do, — whether  more  harm  than  good 
might  come  of  any  public  intervention.  The  first-named 
gentleman  deemed  disclaiming  unnecessary,  and  doubted  the 
wisdom  or  efficacy  of  public  interference.  The  Catholic 
clergy,  however,  throughout  the  whole  district  affected  by 
the  secret  organization  had  determined  to  intervene  at  once 
and  severely.  Simultaneously  from  the  altars  of  the  Cath- 
olic churches  the  whole  business  was  vehemently  denounced, 
and  the  people  warned  to  withdraw  from  and  shun  it.  Mr. 
O'Brien's  answer  to  my  confidential  communication  was  a 
letter,  which  he  wished  to  be  instantly  published,  it  being 
his  opinion  that  we  were  bound  to  reprehend  all  attempts  to 
identify  the  Irish  national  cause  with  such  an  organization. 
I  hesitated  no  longer ;  I  not  only  published  Mr.  O'Brien's 
letter,  as  he  desired,  but  in  strong  terms  appealed  to  patri- 
otic Irishmen  to  avoid  the  hopeless  perils  and  the  demoraliz- 
ing effects  of  secret  societies.  I  was,  in  the  same  sense  as 
the  national  leaders  had  ever  been,  as  "  seditious  "  as  any  of 
them  in  my  hostility  to  the  imperial  scheme  of  destroying 
our  national  autonomy,  but  I  had  not  studied  in  vain  the 
history  of  secret  oath-bound  associations.  I  regarded  them 
with  horror.  I  knew  all  that  could  be  said  as  to  their  advan- 
tages in  revolutionizing  a  country ;  but  even  in  the  firmest 
and  best  of  hands  they  had  a  direct  tendency  to  demoraliza- 
tion, and  were  often,  on  the  whole,  more  perilous  to  society 
than  open  tyranny.  In  joining  issue  on  this  occasion  with  the 
hidden  chiefs  of  the  movement,  I  knew  I  was  setting  a  great 
deal  on  the  cast ;  yet  I  did  not  know  all.  No  action  of  all  my 


THE  PHCENIX  CONBPIEACY.  267 

life  bore  consequences  more  full  of  suffering  and  sacrifice 
for  me  than  did  this  throughout  subsequent  years.  Conduct- 
ing such  a  journal  as  the  Nation,  I  had  no  choice  as  to 
silence.  An  equivocal  attitude  would  have  been  despicably 
mean  and  cowardly.  I  was  called  upon  to  speak  and  act, 
under  not  only  the  public  but  the  conscientious  constraint 
of  duty,  and  I  did  so.  The  result  proved  that  the  influence 
of  the  Nation  had  been  underrated  ;  or,  perhaps  I  should 
say,  its  influence  in  co-operation  with  the  appeals  of  the 
Catholic  clergy.  The  enrollment  was  stopped,  and  it  seemed 
for  a  while  as  if  the  movement  had  been  relinquished.  So 
great  had  been  the  effect  of  the  firm  but  friendly  remon- 
strances addressed  to  the  people,  that  I  verily  believed  we 
should  hear  no  more  of  the  Phoenix  Society.  Not  so,  how- 
ever. The  Government  having  long  previously  got  its  hand 
upon  the  business,  was  not  willing  to  forego  the  sensa- 
tional performance  of  crushing  a  conspiracy  against  its 
power.  On  the  3d  of  December,  1858,  a  vice-regal  proc- 
lamation appeared,  declaring  that  such  a  public  danger 
existed.  In  a  few  days  after  a  simultaneous  raid  was  made 
upon  the  Phoenix  men  in  Skibbereen,  Ban  try,  Kenmare, 
and  Killarney.  The  kingdom  was  alarmed  anew  by  the 
spectacle  of  terrorizing  arrests  and  State  prosecutions.  This 
was  very  generally  regarded  as  "forcing  an  open  gate,"  and 
the  severities  visited  upon  some  of  the  prisoners — young  men 
of  excellent  character,  and  many  of  them  warmly  regarded 
in  their  native  districts — excited  considerable  public  sympa- 
thy. The  Government,  however,  seemed  determined  to  treat 
the  affair  in  a  very  serious  spirit.  A  special  commission  was 
issued  for  the  counties  of  Kerry  and  Cork,  in  each  of  which 
some  score  of  prisoners  awaited  trial.  In  March,  1859,  the 
whole  army  of  Crown  counsel,  led  by  the  Attorney-General, 
Mr.  Whiteside,  M.P.,  commenced  proceedings  at  Tralee. 
The  first  prisoner  arraigned  was  a  national  school-teacher 
named  Daniel  O'Sullivan.*  The  trial,  which  was  very  pro- 

*  It  was  a  coincidence  that  the  informer  whose  evidence  was  adduced 
to  convict  him  bore  the  same  name. 


268  &EW  IRELAND. 

tracted,  was  signalized  by  the  remarkably  able  defense  of  the 
prisoner  by  Mr.  Thomas  O'Hagan,  Q.C.,  some  ten  or  eleven 
years  subsequently  Lord  Chancellor  of  Ireland,  and  now 
Baron  O'Hagan.*  The  story  disclosed  by  the  Crown  was 
simply  that  in  the  districts  already  mentioned  numbers  of 
young  men  were  sworn  into  a  secret  society  such  as  Eossa 
describes,  and  that  small  parties  of  them  were  in  the  habit  of 
going  through  military  drill,  chiefly  at  night-time,  but  some- 
times in  the  day.  Beyond  this  stage  the.  business  had  not 
progressed,  and  as  far  as  could  be  known  the  organization 
had  not  extended  elsewhere  in  Ireland.  The  leader  was  a 
mysterious  personage,  referred  to  generally  as  "the  Sea  vac," 
— Gaelic  for  hawk,  and  pronounced  "Sheuk" — but  pretty 
well  known  to  be  none  other  than  Mr.  Stephens.  The  jury 
disagreed,  and  the  further  trials  were  postponed.  At  the  next 
Kerry  assizes,  the  prisoner,  O'Sullivan,  finding  the  Crown 
impaneling  an  exclusively  Protestant  jury, — ordering  every 
Catholic  who  came  to  the  book  to  "stand  by," — declined  to 
proceed  with  any  defense.  He  said  this  was  not  "trial  by 
jury,"  as  supposed  in  law,  and  he  would  not  recognize  it  as 
such  by  defense.  The  proceedings,  consequently,  were  tame 
and  brief.  He  was  at  once  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to 
ten  years'  penal  servitude,  f 

When,  some  months  later  on,  the  trial  of  the  Cork  pris- 

*  By  one  act  of  his  legislative  career  Lord  O'Hagan  may  truly  be  said 
to  have  writ  his  name  large  on  the  page  of  our  modern  history.  No 
man  of  this  generation  has  done  more  to  surround  the  law  and  its  ad- 
ministration with  popular  confidence  and  respect  than  he  by  his  great 
measure  of  Jury  Keform.  The  Irish  people  were  thereby  assured  for 
the  first  time  that  jury  manipulation  was  not  to  render  a  Crown  prose- 
cution a  game  with  loaded  dice.  When  Lord  O'Hagan's  act  first  went 
into  operation,  some  jars  and  hitches  occurred,  and  partisans  of  the 
old  system  called  out  "  failure."  But  it  has  long  since  become  the 
object  of  universal  praise,  as  a  great  and  statesmanlike  piece  of  legis- 
lation. 

f  Between  1848  and  1858  "transportation  beyond  the  seas"  was 
abolished,  and  penal  servitude  took  its  place  as  a  punishment. 


THE  PH(ENIX  CONSPIRACY.  269 

oners  approached,  their  counsel  and  other  friends  urged  them 
strongly  to  plead  guilty.  In  the  first  place,  the  funds  pub- 
licly collected  to  insure  fair  legal  advocacy  for  the  accused 
had  been  consumed  by  the  protracted  trial  of  O'Sullivan  at 
Tralee.  In  the  next  place,  it  was  represented  to  them  that 
in  consideration  of  such  a  course  on  their  part  the  Crown 
would  certainly  be  content  to  record  the  conviction  and  lib- 
erate them  "  to  appear  when  called  on,"  and,  moreover,  would 
probably  commute  the  sentence  on  their  comrade  O'Sullivan. 
On  an  undertaking  or  promise  to  this  latter  effect — very 
tardily  complied  with  by  the  Government  afterward — the 
suggestion  or  compromise  was  adopted.  Rossa  and  his  com- 
panions pleaded  guilty,  and  were  released.  The  excitement 
which  the  prosecutions  occasioned  passed  away  ;  no  more  was 
heard  of  the  Phcenix  enrollment.  The  attempt,  such  as  it 
was,  very  evidently  was  abandoned.  We  all  felicitated  our- 
selves that  the  curtain  fell  on  no  worse  results,  no  wider  mis- 
chief, no  more  protracted  punishments.  Foolish  was  the 
best  of  our  wisdom  in  thinking  this  was  the  end.  We  had 
seen  only  the  first  act  in  the  astonishing  drama  of  Irish 
Fenianism. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

PAPAL   IKELAND. 

OF  all  Catholic  nations  or  countries  in  the  world — the 
Tyrol  alone  excepted— Ireland  is  perhaps  the  most  Papal,  the 
most  "Ultramontane."  In  designations  bestowed  by  Roman 
Pontiffs  others  hold  high  rank.  The  King  of  France  was 
called  "  the  Eldest  Son  of  the  Church  ;"  the  King  of  Spain 
is  "His Most  Catholic  Majesty ;"  and  the  Sovereign  of  Eng- 
land to  this  day  retains  a  Papal  title  which  declares  the  bearer 
to  be  Defender  of  the  Roman  doctrines  against  Protestant- 
ism. But  these  titles  represent  little  of  reality  now.  In 
most  cases  what  are  called  "Catholic  nations "  are  merely 
countries  in  which  Catholicity  continues  to  be  the  State  re- 
ligion and  is  the  form  of  faith  professed  by  the  bulk  of  the 
population. 

In  Ireland,  on  the  other  hand,  religious  conviction — what 
may  be  called  active  Catholicism — marks  the  population, — 
enters  into  their  daily  life  and  thought  and  action.  The 
churches  are  crowded  as  well  by  men  as  by  women  ;  and  in 
every  sacrament  and  ceremony  of  their  religion  participation 
is  extensive  and  earnest.  Reverence  for  the  sacerdotal  char- 
acter is  so  deep  and  strong  as  to  be  called  "  superstitious  "  by 
observers  who  belong  to  a  different  faith  ;  and  devotion  to 
the  Pope,  attachment  to  the  Roman  See,  is  probably  more  in- 
tense in  Ireland  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  habitable  globe, 
"  the  Leonine  City  "  itself  not  excluded. 

In  1859  the  Irish  people  found  themselves  in  a  strange 
dilemma,  between  sympathy  with  France  on  the  one  hand, 
and  apprehensions  for  the  Pope  on  the  other.  At  the  New 

270 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  271 

Year's  receptions  in  the  Tuileries,  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  by 
a  remark  to  Baron  Hiibner,  regretting  that  the  relations 
between  France  and  Austria  were  not  more  satisfactory,  set 
all  Europe  in  a  ferment.  "War — war  between  France  and 
Italy  and  Austria — was  plainly  at  hand.  England  offered 
her  accustomed  mediation,  which  was,  of  course,  accepted  by 
all  the  parties,  not  one  of  whom,  however,  slackened  its 
preparations  or  dreamt  for  a  moment  of  desisting.  Three 
months  were  given  to  diplomatic  fooling,  till  the  campaign 
season  might  be  reached,  each  side  trying  how  to  maneuver 
the  other  into  an  appearance  of  "aggression."  At  length,  on 
the  9th  of  April,  fifty  thousand  men  set  out  from  Vienna  for 
Lombardy,  and  next  day  sixty  thousand  more  followed.  On 
the  21st  an  Austrian  ultimatum  was  dispatched  to  Turin, 
calling  on  Piedmont  to  disarm  the  menacing  forces  it  had 
been  assembling  for  some  time.  To  this  Victor  Emmanuel 
replied  on  the  25th  by  an  address  to  his  army,  declaring  hos- 
tilities against  Austria.  Count  Cavour  had  meanwhile  tele- 
graphed to  the  French  emperor,  "Help!  Help!  The 
Austrians  are  upon  us  ! "  In  less  than  twenty-four  hours  the 
French  army  marched  from  Paris  for  Italy.  On  the  same 
day  the  Austrians  at  one  point  and  the  Sardinians  at  another 
crossed  the  Ticino.  In  a  brief  campaign  the  Austrians  were 
driven  within  the  Quadrilateral.  Montebello  was  fought  on 
the  20th  May,  Palestro  on  the  31st,  Magenta  on  the  4th  of 
June,  and  Solferino  on  the  24th.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst 
of  victories,  Napoleon  stopped  and  proffered  peace.  The 
Treaty  of  Villafranca.  on  the  llth  of  July,  subsequently  rati- 
fied at  Zurich,  closed  the  Italian  war  of  1859. 

From  May  to  July  a  curious  struggle  of  sympathies  pre- 
vailed in  Ireland.  The  Catholic  prelates  and  clergy  de- 
nounced the  conduct  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  as  utterly 
perfidious.  His  Majesty's  assurances  of  safety  and  protection 
for  the  Pope  were  likened  to  the  embraces  of  a  Judas  ;  for 
that  when  Francis  Joseph  had  been  crushed,  Pio  Nono's  turn 
for  attack  and  destruction  would  come,  they  emphatically  pre- 


272  NEW  IRELAND. 

dieted.  Still,  popular  feeling  in  Ireland  followed  the  French 
flag,  especially  when  it  was  found  that  a  Franco-Irishman, 
General  Patrick  MacMahon,  was  placed  in  command  of  a 
division.  The  news  of  the  battle  of  Magenta — that  Mac- 
Mahon had  turned  the  tide  of  victory,  had  saved  the  French 
Emperor,  and  had  heen  named  Marshal  of  France  and  Duke 
of  Magenta  for  so  memorable  an  achievement — evoked  bound- 
less joy  in  Ireland.  Bonfires  blazed  on  the  hills  of  Clare,  the 
ancient  home  of  his  ancestors.  His  name  became  a  popular 
watchword  all  over  the  island.  In  the  Nation  we  published, 
from  searches  in  the  public  archives  at  home  and  in  France,  an 
authentic  record  of  his  family,  from  the  capitulation  of  Lim- 
erick to  the  victory  of  Magenta.  *  A  proposition  that  our 

*  "Patrick  MacMahon,  of  Torrodile,  in  the  county  of  Limerick,  was 
married  to  Margaret,  daughter  of  John  O'Sullivan,  of  Bantry,  in  the 
county  of  Cork,  of  the  House  of  O'Sullivan  Beare.  Honorably  identi- 
fied with  the  cause  of  the  last  of  the  Stuarts,  he  sheathed  his  sword  at 
the  Treaty  of  Limerick,  and  retired,  with  his  wife, — '  a  lady,'  say  the 
records,  'of  the  rarest  beauty  and  virtue,' — to  the  friendly  shores  of 
France.  Here  his  son,  John  MacMahon,  of  Autun,  married  an  heiress, 
and  was  created  Count  d'Equilly.  On  the  28th  of  September,  1749, 
the  Count  applied  to  the  Irish  Government  of  that  day — accompanying 
his  application  with  the  necessary  fees,  etc. ,  for  the  officers  of  '  Ulster 
King-at-Arms ' — to  have  his  genealogy,  together  with  the  records,  etc., 
of  his  family,  duly  authenticated,  collected,  and  recorded  with  all 
necessary  verification,  in  order  that  his  children  and  their  posterity  in 
France  might  have  all-sufficient  proof  of  the  proud  fact  that  they  were 
Irish.  All  this  was  accordingly  done,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  records  in 
Birmingham  Tower,  Dublin  Castle,  countersigned  by  the  then  Lord- 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  the  various  other  requisite  signatures.  In 
those  records  he  is  described  as  of  '  the  noble  family,  paternally  of 
MacMahon  of  Clonderala  (in  Clare),  and  maternally  of  the  noble  family 
of  O'Sullivan  Beare.'  He  was  the  grandfather  of  the  Marshal  Duke 
of  Magenta.  The  Count's  genealogy  commences  in  the  middle  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  traces  him  through  eight  generations  as  follows  : 
Terence  MacMahon,  proprietor  of  Clonderala,  married  Helena,  daugh- 
ter of  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  Earl  of  Kildare,  died  1472,  and  was  interred 
in  the  Monastery  of  Ashelin,  in  Munster.  He  was  succeeded  by  his 
son  Donatus  MacMahon,  who  married  Honora  O'Brien,  of  the  noble 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  273 

people  should  present  the  Franco-Irish  marshal  with  a  sword 
of  honor  was  responded  to  with  unexampled  enthusiasm. 
Five  hundred  pounds  were  called  for ;  nearly  seven  hundred 
were  subscribed ;  and  a  really  magnificent  sword  and  scab- 
bard were  manufactured,  from  designs  specially  furnished 
by  an  Irish  artist,  Mr.  E.  Fitzpatrick.  The  Marshal,  on 
being  made  aware  of  the  proposed  compliment,  intimated 
that,  subject  to  the  requisite  permission  of  the  Emperor,  he 
would  be  truly  happy  to  receive  this  mark  of  regard  from  his 


family  of  Thomond;  and  liis  son,  Terence  MacMahon,  Esq.,  married 
Joanna,  daughter  of  John  MacNamara,  Esq.,  of  Dohaghtin,  commonly 
styled  'MacNamara  Reagh,'  and  had  a  son  Bernard  MacMahon,  Esq., 
whose  wife  was  Margarita,  daughter  of  Donatus  O'Brien  of  Daugh. 
Mortogh  MacMahon,  son  of  Bernard,  married  Eleanora,  daughter  of 
William  O'Xelan  of  Emri,  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  horse  in  the  army 
of  Charles  I.,  and  was  father  of  Maurice  MacMahon,  Esq.,  whose  wife 
Helena  was  daughter  of  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  Esq.,  of  Ballinoe,  Knight 
of  Glinn.  Mortogh  MacMahon,  son  of  Maurice,  married  Helena, 
daughter  of  Emanuel  MacSheehy,  Esq.,  of  Ballylinan,  and  was  father 
of  the  above-named  Patrick  MacMahon,  who  married  Margarita,  daugh* 
ter  of  John  O'Sullivan,  Esq.,  mother  of  John,  first  Count  d'Equilly. 
The  descent  of  the  Count  MacMahon,  maternally,  through  the  O'Sul- 
livans  is  as  follows  :  Mortogh  O'Sullivan  Beare,  of  Bantry,  in  the 
county  of  Cork,  married  Maryann,  daughter  of  James  Lord  Desmond, 
and  dying  was  interred,  1541,  in  the  Convent  of  Friars  Minors,  Cork. 
His  son,  John  O'Sullivan,  of  Bantry,  married  Joanna,  daughter  of 
Gerald  de  Courcey,  Baron  of  Kinsale,  and  died  1578,  leaving  Daniel 
O'Sullivan,  Esq.,  his  son,  who  married  Anna,  daughter  of  Christopher 
O'Driscoll,  of  Baltimore,  in  the  county  Cork,  Esq.,  and  died  at  Madrid, 
leaving  his  son  John  O'Sullivan,  of  Bantry,  Esq.,  who  married  Mar- 
garet, daughter  of  James  O'Donovan  of  Roscarbery,  Esq.  Bartholo- 
mew O'Sullivan,  son  of  John,  was  colonel  in  the  army  of  James  II.,  at 
the  siege  of  Limerick,  and  married  Helena,  daughter  of  Thomas 
Fitzmaurice,  Baron  of  Kerry,  by  whom  he  had  Major  John  O'Sullivan 
of  Bantry,  who  married  Honoria,  daughter  of  Robert  MacCarty,  of 
'Castro  Leonino  (Castlelyons),  in  the  county  of  Cork,  Esq.,  grandson 
of  Daniel  MacCarty,  Lord  of  Glancare  and  Margaret,  his  wife,  daugh- 
ter of  Donogh  Lord  Desmond,  and  died  1731.'  Their  daughter  was 
Margarita,  who  married  Patrick  MacMahon,  Esq.,  of  Torrodile." 
12* 


274  NEW  IRELAND. 

anriens  compatriotes,  as  he  styled  the  Irish  people.*  The 
Emperor,  in  a  very  marked  way,  assented,  and  on  the  2d  of 
September,  1860,  my  brother,  Mr.  T.  D.  Sullivan,  and 
Dr.  George  Sigerson,  a  deputation  from  the  Irish  committee, 
proceeded  to  France  to  make  the  formal  presentation.  The 
Marshal  was  at  the  time  in  command  at  Chalons,  and  to 
honor  the  arrival  of  the  Irish  deputation  on  such  an  errand 
the  camp  was  en  fete.  The  formal  presentation  took  place 
at  headquarters.  An  address,  engrossed  in  Irish  and  French, 
and  signed  on  behalf  of  the  Dublin  committee  by  The 
O'Donoghue,  M.P.,  chairman,  and  by  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth  and 
Mr.  T.  D.  Sullivan,  hon.  secretaries,  was  read  by  one  of  the 
deputation.  The  Marshal  was  visibly  affected,  and,  with  a 
voice  betraying  considerable  emotion,  he  replied  as  fol- 
lows :  f 

"  Gentlemen, — I  am  most  deeply  touched  by  the  senti- 
ments which  you  have  just  expressed  to  me ;  and  I  pray  that 
you  will  tell  the  Irish  whom  you  represent  how  grateful  I 
feel  for  the  testimony  of  esteem  and  sympathy  which  you 
offer  me  in  their  name.  This  testimony,  by  its  spontaneous 
character,  proves  to  me  that  Green  Erin  has  preserved  those 
chivalrous  ideas,  that  vivacity,  and  that  warmth  of  heart 
which  have  ever  distinguished  her. 

*  "Je  dois  commencer  par  vous  dire  que  je  suis  excessivement  recon- 
naissant  de  ce  temoignage  d'interet  de  la  part  d'anciens  compatriotes 
avec  lesquels  je  n'ai  eu  depuis  long-temps  que  des  rapports  indirects." 
f  "  Messieurs, — Je  suis  on  ne  peut  plus  touche  des  sentiments  que 
vous  venez  de  m'exprimer,  et  je  vous  prie  de  dire  aux  Irlandais  que 
vous  representez  combien  je  suis  reconnaissant  du  temoignage  d'estime 
et  sympathie  que  vous  m'offrez  en  leur  nom.  Ce  temoignage  par  sa 
spontaneite  m'a  prouve  que  La  Verte  Erinn  avait  conservce  ces  idees 
chevalresques,  cette  vivacite  et  cette  chaleur  de  coeur  qui  1'ont  de  tout 
temps  distingue. 

"Je  laisserai,  un  jour,  a  mon  fils  aine,  Patrice,  cette  magnifique 
epee.  Elle  sera  pour  lui,  comme  elle  est  pour  moi,  un  gage  nouveau 
des  liens  etroits  qui  doivent  1'unir  a  jamais  au  noble  pays  de  ses  an- 
cStrea." 


PAPAL  IEELAND.  275 

"  I  will  leave  one  day  to  my  eldest  son,  Patrick,  this  mag- 
nificent sword.  It  will  be  for  him,  as  it  is  for  myself,  a  new 
pledge  of  those  close  ties  which  should  unite  him  forever  to 
the  noble  country  of  his  ancestors." 

The  deputation,  together  with  some  friends  who  had  ac- 
companied them  from  Paris,  were  entertained  at  a  splendid 
banquet,  to  which  he  had  invited  to  meet  them  quite  a  num- 
ber of  French  officers  and  noblemen  of  Irish  lineage, — Com- 
mandant Dillon,  General  O'Farrell,  General  Sutton  de 
Clonard, — men  whose  names  proclaimed  at  least  their  Irish 
origin,  although  Ireland  they  had  never  seen.  The  hero  of 
Magenta  proved  to  be  quite  conversant  with  Irish  history, 
poetry,  and  literature.  "  C'etait  un  pays  tout-u-fait  poe- 
tique,"  said  he,  addressing  a  French  general ;  "it  was  a  land 
of  poetry,  which  character  it  has  not  even  yet  lost :  its  an- 
cient laws  were  often  written  in  verse,  and  the  bards  ranked 
next  to  royalty." 

That  he  could  turn  a  joke  with  quick  humor  was  shown 
by  his  play  upon  the  French  word  "eau"  and  the  Irish  pre- 
nominal  "  0."  "  He  had  been  making  particular  inquiries/' 
says  a  member  of  the  deputation,  "  about  the  signification  of 
the  '  0 '  and  '  Mac  ; '  and  on  their  origin  being  explained  to 
him,  he  mentioned  that  some  persons,  when  they  saw  his 
name,  said,  'That  is  a  Scotch  name.'  This,  he  said,  was 
absurd,  of  course  ;  but  were  there  not  other  names  in  Ireland 
having  Mac  prefixed  ?  He  was  answered  there  were  many 
such, — Mac  Carthy,  Mac  Guire,  etc. ;  but  that  it  was,  indeed, 
remarkable  enough  that  the  Scots  showed  such  a  predilection 
for  the  <  Mac.'  <  O's '  were  plenty  in  Ireland,  whilst  <  il  n'y  a 
pas  d?0  en  Ecosse.' 

"'Comment,' exclaimed  the  Marshal,  with  a  sparkle  of 
genuine  fun  in  his  eye, — 'comment,  malgre  ses  lacs  ?'" 

There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  Napoleon  the  Third 
halted  at  Villafranca  because  he  found  himself  in  the  toils  of 
a  man  who  was  his  master  in  every  art  of  diplomacy  and 
politics, — Count  Cavour.  The  Emperor  had  dreams  and 


276  NEW  IRELAND. 

schemes  of  compromise,  and  thought  he  could  assign  limits 
to  the  bold  designs  of  the  Turin  organizer,  by  whom  from 
first  to  last  he  was  baffled,  outwitted,  and  beaten.  Even 
while  Napoleon  was  theorizing  over  his  project  of  an  Italian 
Confederation  with  the  Pope  at  its  head,  Cavour,  determined 
to  defeat  it,  was  secretly  spreading  his  agencies  and  opera- 
tions throughout  the  entire  peninsula.  On  the  20th  of  Oc- 
tober Victor  Emmanuel  openly  rejected  the  Villafranca  plan, 
declaring  he  was  engaged  to  the  Italian  people.  In  the  same 
month  was  announced  the  division  of  the  territory  so  far 
secured.  Savoy  and  Nice  were  to  fall  to  the  French  Empe- 
ror, as  compensation  for  Lombardy  ;  the  Eomagna,  Parma, 
and  Modena  being  appropriated  by  the  Sardinian  king.  But 
was  annexation  to  stop  even  at  this  point?  A  feeling  of 
uneasiness  and  apprehension  spread  through  Ireland.  The 
new  year,  1860,  found  the  island  heaving  with  excitement. 
That  on  one  ground  or  another  the  Pope  would  be  openly 
attacked  and  further  despoiled  was  now  the  universal  con- 
viction, and  monster  meetings  to  tender  him  sympathy  and 
support  were  held  in  every  province  and  county.  Subscrip- 
tions in  his  aid  poured  in  from  every  parish  and  diocese  in 
the  kingdom.  They  amounted  in  the  aggregate  to  a  vast 
sum  ;  but  the  depth  and  force  of  popular  feeling  which  these 
sixpences  and  shillings  of  the  poor  represented,  even  more 
than  did  the  splendid  contributions  of  the  rich  and  aristo- 
cratic classes,  gave  a  grave  importance  to  this  extraordinary 
upheaval  of  religious  emotion. 

On  this  subject  there  was  displayed  one  of  the  most  violent 
conflicts  of  English  and  Irish  popular  opinion  which  I  have 
ever  noted.  In  England  the  Italian  movement  evoked  the 
warmest  admiration.  It  was  hailed  as  the  onward  march  of 
liberty,  the  overthrow  of  oppression.  In  Ireland  it  was  de- 
nounced as  the  rapacity  of  a  dishonest  neighboring  state, 
sapping  and  undermining  the  Pontifical  power,  and  now 
planning  an  open  seizure  of  the  prey.  Englishmen  were 
disgusted  that  the  Irish  should,  out  of  fanatical  worship  of 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  277 

the  Pope,  desire  to  prevent  the  Komans  from  being  free. 
Irishmen  were  angered  to  see  how  filibustering  raids  were 
subsidized  in  England  against  an  aged  and  peaceful  Pontiff, 
the  head  of  Christendom,  while  a  few  years  previously  Great 
Britain  had  spent  millions  of  money  and  shed  rivers  of  blood 
to  uphold  the  head  of  Mohammedanism.  The  artillery  of 
journalism  waged  a  furious  duel  across  the  Channel.  "  Every 
people  has  a  right  to  choose  its  own  form  of  Government," 
said  the  English  press.  "Then  let  us  choose  ours,"  an- 
swered the  Irish.  "The  Romans  have  a  right  to  rebel," 
said  the  one.  "But  there  is  no  question  of  the  Romans  re- 
belling," responded  the  other  :  "it  is  a  question  of  the  Pied- 
montese  invading  the  Pope's  dominions."  In  short,  the 
dispute  resolved  itself  briefly  into  this,  that  in  England  the 
reality  of  oppression  and  disaffection  in  the  Pope's  domin- 
ions was  fully  believed  in,  while  in  Ireland  the  discontent 
was  declared  to  be  mainly  a  commodity  produced  by  Sardin- 
ian agencies  for  Sardinian  ends, — that  is  to  say,  for  annexa- 
tion purposes. 

Each  party  acted  accordingly.  From  England  went  pub- 
lic addresses,  money,  and  men  to  help  Victor  Emmanuel  and 
Garibaldi.  From  Ireland  went  addresses  and  money,  but 
not  yet  men,  to  defend  the  Roman  Pontiff  against  the  threat- 
ened attack.  Not  yet  men ;  but  soon  the  cry  was  raised, 
Why  not  men  also  ?  One  of  the  popular  journals,  the  Dun- 
dalk  Democrat,  declared  that  Ireland's  best  offering  to  the 
Supreme  Pontiff  at  this  crisis  would  be  an  Irish  brigade.  I 
had  myself  for  some  time  previously  been  vainly  urging  the 
same  view  on  Irish  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  whom  I  knew  to 
be  in  intimate  correspondence  with  Rome.  I  found  I  was 
dealing  with  a  wofully  conservative  body  of  men.  They 
quite  started,  affrighted,  from  the  use  of  anything  like  force 
or  violence  even  in  self-defense.  I  believe  my  views  and 
propositions  were  forwarded  to  or  mentioned  at  Rome,  but 
they  were  rather  discouragingly  received.  Monsignor  de 
Merode  was  then  the  pontifical  minister  of  military  affairs. 


278  NEW  IRELAND. 

He  early  foresaw  that  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  battle-field 
this  whole  business  must  some  day  come  ;  and  he  strained 
every  nerve  to  prepare  for  such  a  contingency.  Only  in  a 
slow  and  halting  and  reluctant  way  could  he  obtain  assent 
to  his  views  at  the  Vatican,  where  Cardinal  Antonelli,  per- 
suaded that  resistance  single-handed  would  be  hopeless,  was 
altogether  for  relying  on  "the  Christian  Powers."  Pio 
Nono  himself  was,  moreover,  to  the  last  more  or  less  averse 
to  military  preparation  or  demonstration.  He  was  a  man  of 
prayer ;  Cardinal  Antonelli  was  a  man  of  diplomacy  ;  Mon- 
signor  de  Merode  believed  that  Count  Cavour  cared  little  for 
either,  and  that,  taking  to  the  sword,  he  could  be  stopped 
only  by  the  sword,  if  at  all. 

At  last  we  heard  that  General  Lamoricie're  had  been  offered 
and  had  accepted  the  chief  command  of  the  Pontifical  army, 
— nominally  twenty  thousand,  in  reality  about  ten  thousand, 
men.  To  those  in  any  degree  behind  the  scenes  this  meant 
that  Monsignor  de  Merode  had  at  length  carried  the  day, 
and  that  an  effort  would  be  made  to  organize  a  force  for  the 
defense  of  the  Roman  territory. 

One  day  early  in  March,  1860,  two  gentlemen  entered  my 
office  in  Lower  Abbey  Street,  Dublin.  One  was  a  friend 
whom  I  knew  to  be  deeply  interested  in  the  now  critical 
affairs  of  the  Pontifical  Government ;  the  other  was  a 
stranger,  apparently  a  foreigner.  "Here,"  said  my  friend, 
"  is  a  gentleman  who  shares  some  of  those  views  you  have 
been  so  hotly  urging  about  defending  Rome."  I  found  in 
my  unknown  visitor  Count  Charles  MacDonnell,  of  Vienna, 
trusted  attache  of  Field-Marshal  Count  Nugent,  and  a  Cham- 
berlain of  the  Holy  Father.  If  ever  a  chivalrous  devotion 
to  a  fallen  cause  was  personified,  it  was  in  this  loyal  and 
brave-hearted  gentleman.  He  reminded  me  of  those  High- 
land chieftains  whose  attachment  to  the  Stuarts,  romantic 
and  tragical,  evokes  sympathy  and  admiration  in  every  gener- 
ous breast.  Had  he  lived  in  the  thirteenth  century,  he 
would  have  been  a  crusader  knight ;  in  1641  he  would  have 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  279 

been  a  Cavalier  ;  in  1745  he  would  have  been  at  the  side  of 
Prince  Charles  Edward  on  the  fatal  field  of  Culloden.  He 
came  to  see  what  Ireland  would  do, — what  aid  she  would 
contribute  in  the  military  defense  of  the  Koman  patrimony. 
"We  know  in  Rome,"  said  he,  "that  Garibaldi,  with  the 
connivance  and  secret  assistance  of  the  Turin  Government, 
is  organizing  an  aggressive  expedition,  but  whether  to  strike 
at  Naples  or  at  us  in  the  first  instance  we  cannot  tell.  In 
any  case  we  shall  be  attacked  this  summer.  What  will  Ire- 
land do  for  us  ?  " 

"In  the  improbable  event  of  the  Government  allowing 
volunteering,  as  in  the  case  of  Donna  Maria,"  I  answered, 
"you  can  have  thirty  thousand  men  ;  if,  as  is  most  likely, 
they  give  no  permission  but  no  active  opposition,  you  will 
probably  get  ten  thousand  :  if  they  actively  prevent,  nothing 
can  be  done.  In  my  opinion,  unless  the  proceeding  is  too 
glaring  and  open,  Lord  Palmcrston  will  not  raise  a  conflict, 
in  view  of  Lord  Ellenborough's  letter  and  the  'million  of 
muskets'  movement  on  the  other  side  in  England.  But  the 
chief  difficulty  will  be  our  own  bishops.  They  will  be  ad- 
verse or  neutral.  Not  one  of  them  believes  the  little  army 
of  Lamoriciere  can  cope  with  the  overpowering  odds  of 
Sardinia." 

The  Count  pulled  from  his  breast  a  scarlet  morocco  letter- 
case,  and  in  five  minutes  satisfied  me  that  abundant  assur- 
ance had  been  secretly  given  at  Rome  by  some  of  the  crowned 
heads  of  Europe  that  if  the  Monsignor  de  Merode  could, 
without  French  or  Austrian  intervention,  defeat  invasion  by 
Garibaldian  irregulars,  Sardinia  would  be  prevented  from 
attacking. 

This  threw  a  new  light  on  the  situation.  I  think  I  can 
assert  that  it  was  upon  the  faith  of  those  private  assurances 
the  whole  of  General  Lamoriciere's  movements  were  planned 
in  1860. 

My  friend  the  Count  was  intensely  Austrian,  and  hated 
Napoleon  with  a  deadly  hatred.  "He  is  a  liar,"  he  said, 


280  NEW  IRELAND. 

"and  the  truth  is  not  in  him.  He  will  not  keep  his  word  ; 
but  others  will."  I  could  see  very  early  that  the  mortal  jeal- 
ousy between  France  and  Austria  would  prove  the  real  peril 
of  Pio  Nono. 

We  set  off  on  a  tour  through  the  provinces,  to  sound  our 
way  as  to  what  might  be  done,  and  how  best  to  do  it.  .1  was 
painfully  anxious  that  the  Count  should  be  out  of  the  country 
as  soon  as  possible,  or,  at  all  events,  that  he  should  send  his 
red  dispatch-case  away,  for  it  contained  one  or  two  auto- 
graph letters  which,  if  lost,  or  on  any  pretext  seized,  would 
have  raised  an  awkward  diplomatic  storm  on  the  Continent. 
But  he  would  "complete  his  mission"  at  all  hazards;  and 
he  did.  Within  less  than  a  month  from  his  departure  the 
first  band  of  Pontifical  volunteers  left  Ireland.  Before  the 
end  of  July  nearly  two  thousand  men  had  proceeded  in 
small  parties  across  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  reached 
the  Koman  States.  Deep  mistrust  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon 
at  first  forbade  the  hazard  of  sending  men  through  France, 
and  accordingly  the  route  selected  was  by  way  of  Belgium 
and  Austria.  The  line  from  Bodenbach  to  Trieste  and 
Ancona  was  under  the  charge  of  Count  MacDonnell ;  the 
portion  reaching  from  Ireland  to  Bodenbach  was  under  the 
authority  of  a  committee  or  directorate  in  Dublin,  consisting 
of  three  or  four  gentlemen,  in  whose  labors  I  bore  some  part. 
Only  one  of  them  may  I  name, — he  is  now  no  more, — and 
of  him  I  can  sincerely  affirm  that  the  Pontifical  power  had 
never  fallen  if  all  who  owed  it  allegiance  had  served  it  with 
the  deep-hearted  love  and  devotion  of  Laurence  Canon 
Forde. 

The  expedition  which  Count  MacDonnell  had  predicted  or 
mentioned  in  March  proved  a  reality.  On  the  4th  of  April 
an  outbreak  took  place  at  Palermo,  and  on  the  5th  of  May 
the  famous  "Thousand"  of  Garibaldi  sailed  from  Genoa. 
From  that  date  to  the  beginning  of  September  Europe  wit- 
nessed the  unchecked  victorious  progress  of  that  force.  By 
the  28th  of  July  they  had  conquered  Sicily.  On  the  8th  of 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  281 

September  General  Garibaldi,  M.  Dumas,  pere,  and  Mr.  Ed- 
win James,  his  chief  non-military  colleagues  in  the  campaign, 
entered  Naples  without  opposition,  Francis  II.  having  retired 
to  Gaeta.  Next  day  Victor  Emmanuel  was  proclaimed  king 
in  the  Neapolitan  capital. 

The  endeavor  of  Generals  Lamoriciere  and  Kanzler  to 
hurriedly  organize  a  really  efficient  military  system  was  a 
work  of  almost  hopeless  difficulty.  Papal  Eome  was  not 
a  belligerent  power.  Its  so-called  army,  or  Swiss  Guard,  was 
little  more  than  a  police  force.  Nevertheless,  by  the  month 
of  August  Lamoriciere  declared  himself  confident  of  en- 
countering and  defeating  the  now  imminent  attack  of  the 
victorious  Garibaldians  penetrating  from  the  Neapolitan  side. 
Meanwhile  a  formidable  Sardinian  force  was  being  assembled 
on  the  northern  frontier,  under  Generals  Cialdini  and  Fanti. 
To  the  very  last  the  French  Emperor  sent  tranquilizing 
assurances,  on  the  faith  of  Turin  declarations,  that  no  hostile 
movement  against  the  Pontifical  territory  was  intended ;  * 
that  this  army  was  assembled  to  "  repress  disorder  "  should 
the  Garibaldian  movement  in  the  south  extend.  Suddenly, 
on  the  9th  of  September,  1860,  Cardinal  Antonelli  received 
from  Count  Cavour  a  demand  for  the  disbandment  of  La- 

*  "At  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  September  your  excellency 
communicated  to  me  the  assurances  given  by  the  French  ambassador 
on  behalf  of  Piedmont,  that  not  only  that  power  would  not  invade  our 
territory,  but  that  it  would  even  oppose  the  invasion  by  any  bands  of 
volunteers  which  were  forming  over  our  frontiers.  The  measures 
adopted  against  Colonel  Nicotera,  who  had  assembled  two  thousand 
men  in  the  neighborhood  of  Leghorn,  and  who  wished  to  throw  them 
on  our  coasts,  were  additionally  promised  to  us  ;  and  it  appeared  that 
it  was  in  the  direction  of  Naples  that  we  had  to  fear  an  invasion.  Al- 
ready at  several  intervals  the  embarkation  of  troops  in  Sicily  and  in 
the  Calabria  was  announced  as  intending  to  attack  us  in  the  direction 
of  the  Marches  ;  and  after  the  occupation  of  Naples  by  General  Gari 
baldi  everything  led  us  to  believe  that  our  southern  provinces  would 
be  shortly  invaded."— Official  Report  by  General  Lamoriciere  to  the 
Pontifical  Ministry  of  War. 


282  NEW  IRELAND. 

moriciere's  force.  Without  awaiting  reply,  the  corps  of 
Generals  Fanti  and  Cialdini  burst  across  the  frontier,  took 
Lamoriciere  in  flank  and  rear,  and  cut  in  pieces  the  forma- 
tion he  had  effected  for  attack  from  a  different  quarter.  In 
a  brief  and  disastrous  campaign,  in  which,  hopelessly  out- 
numbered and  taken  by  surprise,  it  never  had  a  chance,  the 
Pontifical  army  was  defeated  at  every  point.  This  crash 
found  the  Irish,  mostly  unarmed,  in  process  of  drill  at  An- 
cona,  Spoleto,  Perugia,  and  Foligno.  Their  organization 
into  a  battalion,  called  the  "  Battalion  of  St.  Patrick,"  under 
the  command  of  Major  Myles  W.  O'Reilly  (the  present 
member  of  Parliament  for  Longford  County),  had  barely 
been  effected  ;  but  their  equipment  was  not  yet  accomplished. 
Lamoriciere  seemed  stunned  by  the  news  of  the  Piedmontese 
invasion.  Marching  out  of  Spoleto  at  midnight  of  the  14th, 
he  made  a  desperate  effort  to  gather  his  forces  for  a  dash  to 
Ancona,  the  Piedmontese  commander  being  evidently  deter- 
mined to  cut  him  off.  Strange  as  it  may  sound  at  this  day, 
even  at  that  moment  the  Papal  general  believed,  and  had  re- 
ceived reason  to  believe,  that  if  he  could  hold  the  enemy  at 
bay  for  a  week  or  two  the  French  Emperor  would  come  to 
his  aid.  At  Macerata,  on  the  17th,  he  effected  a  junction 
with  General  Pimodan.  Pushing  on  next  day,  he  found 
General  Cialdini  lying  across  his  course  in  strong  position  at 
Castelfidardo.  Here  was  fought  the  really  decisive  battle  of 
the  campaign.  Lamoriciere  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way 
through  to  Ancona,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  chasseurs  ;  but 
his  army  was  annihilated. 

Meanwhile  General  Fanti's  corps  had  attacked  and  taken 
Perugia  on  the  15th,  and  summoned  Spoleto  to  surrender  on 
the  17th.  The  town,  or  rather  the  "Rocca,"  was  held  by 
Major  O'Reilly  and  three  hundred  Irishmen,  besides  some 
few  Franco-Belgians,  Austrians,  Swiss,  and  native  Italians. 
Quite  a  formidable  controversy  was  raised  by  some  of  the 
English  newspapers  over  this  capture  of  Spoleto  from  the 
Irish ;  but  the  signal  gallantry  of  the  defense  has  been  at- 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  283 

tested  by  authorities  on  whose  testimony  Major  O'Reilly  and 
his  three  hundred  Irishmen  may  proudly  rest  their  repu- 
tation,— namely,  General  Brignone,  the  commander  of  the 
attacking  force,  and  General  Lamoriciere,  one  of  the  first 
soldiers  in  Europe.  The  former  in  the  articles  of  capitula- 
tion says, — 

"  The  officers  and  soldiers  shall  be  treated  in  all  respects  with  that 
urbanity  and  that  respect  which  befit  honorable  and  brave  troops,  as 
they  have  proved  themselves  to  be  in  to-day's  fight." 

On  the  28th  of  September  Ancona,  besieged  by  land  and 
sea,  its  defenses  laid  in  ruins  by  a  continuous  bombardment, 
surrendered  to  Admiral  Persano,  whose  recently-published 
correspondence  throws  a  startling  light  on  the  secret  history 
of  this  campaign. 

Whether  the  Irish  companies  in  this  ill-fated  struggle  dis- 
played at  all  events  "the  ancient  courage  of  their  race"  is  a 
question  that  keenly  touches  the  national  honor.  Happily 
its  decision  does  not  rest  merely  on  the  frank  and  modest  re- 
port of  their  commander,  nor  yet  on  the  eulogies  of  the 
Papal  minister  of  war.  No  one  will  deny  that  General  La- 
moriciere was  a  competent  military  authority  as  to  the  bear- 
ing and  conduct  of  soldiers.  In  his  official  report  he  makes 
severe  reflections  on  some  small  portion  of  the  troops  who 
served  under  his  command ;  but  of  the  Irish  he  never  speaks 
save  in  praise.  He  bears  special  testimony  to  their  bravery 
at  Perugia,  at  Spoleto,  at  Castelfidardo,  and  at  Ancona. 
"At  Perugia,"  he  says,  "one  Irish  company"  (the  total 
Irish  force  present)  "  and  the  greater  part  of  the  battalion 
of  the  2d  Regiment  of  the  Line  alone  showed  themselves  de- 
termined to  do  their  duty."  At  Spoleto,  he  says,  the  Irish 
"defended  themselves  with  great  gallantry."  At  Castelfi- 
dardo, he  says,  "two  howitzers  were  moved  forward,  under 
a  very  sharp  fire,  with  the  aid  of  the  Irish.  These  brave 
soldiers,  after  having  accomplished  the  mission  with  which 
they  were  charged,  reunited  themselves  with  the  tirailleurs, 


284  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  during  the  rest  of  the  battle  distinguished  themselves 
in  their  ranks. " 

Often  have  bitter  and  passionate  words  passed  between  the 
English  and  Irish  press  ;  but  I  doubt  if  ever  the  language  of 
taunt  and  contumely  on  the  one  hand,  of  hatred  and  defiance 
on  the  other,  proceeded  to  greater  lengths  than  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  presence  of  an  Irish  force  on  the  Papal  side  ut- 
terly outraged  English  opinion  ;  and  the  way  in  which  Eng- 
lish anger  found  expression  in  the  public  journals  was  in 
calling  the  Irish  "cowards"  and  "mercenaries."  Whatever 
else  may  be  said  of  Irishmen,  as  England  well  knows,  they 
make  good  soldiers.  They  are  not  "cowards;"  and  what- 
ever else  might  have  been  charged  upon  those  men,  they 
were  not  "mercenaries."  From  the  English  point  of  view 
they  were  fanatics,  but  certainly  not  mercenaries.  They  left 
country,  home,  and  friends  to  fight  for  a  cause  in  which, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  as  Englishmen  might  judge,  they  deemed 
it  honorable  and  holy  to  die.  Pay — mercenary  considerations 
— could  have  had  no  place  in  their  motives  ;  for  the  pay  of  a 
Papal  soldier  was  merely  nominal,  and  his  rations  were  poor 
indeed.  The  taunts  and  invectives  of  the  English  press 
evoked  fierce  rejoinder. in  Ireland.  By  way  of  answer  to  the 
aspersions  on  the  battalion  lying  prisoners  at  Leghorn  and 
Genoa,  it  was  decided  that  they  should  be  brought  home 
"in  triumph"  at  the  national  expense.  After  a  troubled 
and  protracted  negotiation  with  the  Piedmontese  authori- 
ties, the  prisoners  were  turned  over  to  a  duly-commissioned 
representative  of  the  Irish  Brigade  committee.  He  char- 
tered a  steamer  and  embarked  the  men  for  Cork,  where  they 
safely  arrived  on  the  3d  of  November,  1860.  In  anticipa- 
tion of  this  event  I  was  requested  to  proceed  to  the  southern 
port  to  arrange  for  their  reception  and  the  forwarding  of 
them  to  their  homes.  But  the  citizens  of  Cork  took  the 
work  very  heartily  into  their  own  hands  in  great  part.  A 
local  "reception  committee"  was  instantly  formed,  under 
the  active  presidency  of  Mr.  J.  F.  Maguire,  M.P.,  and  prep- 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  285 

arations  set  on  foot  for  a  general  festive  display.  Had  those 
men  been  victors  on  a  hundred  fields  they  could  not  have 
been  welcomed  with  more  nattering  demonstrations.  Bands 
played  and  banners  waved ;  the  population  turned  out  en 
masse  ;  addresses  were  presented  and  speeches  delivered.  In 
public  procession,  escorted  by  the  local  committee,  compris- 
ing some  of  the  principal  citizens  of  Cork,  the  battalion 
marched  to  the  several  railway-stations,  where,  breaking  up 
into  parties  destined  for  different  localities,  they  separated, 
embracing  and  kissing  one  another  in  Continental  style, 
quite  affectionately.  Nor  did  the  demonstrations  end  here. 
At  every  town  where  a  detachment  alighted,  crowds  assem- 
bled, waving  green  boughs  if  flags  could  not  be  obtained, 
and  escorted  them  on  their  homeward  road. 

In  this  chapter  of  her  history  Ireland  is  to  be  seen  and 
studied  under  the  influences  of  overpowering  religious  emo- 
tion, or,  as  it  might  be  less  sympathetically  said,  "carried 
away  by  such  blind  and  fanatical  zeal  for  a  religious  chief  as 
must  mark  a  nation  imbued  with  bigotry  and  intolerance." 
It  is,  however,  a  fact  which  ought  to  be  intelligently  contem- 
plated, that  this  people,  so  strongly  Papal,  so  intensely  Catho- 
lic, so  violently  opposed  to  "liberalism"  or  religious  indif- 
ference, is,  in  civil  affairs,  perhaps  the  most  liberal  and  tol- 
erant in  the  world.  When,  in  the  early  part  of  the  present 
century,  it  was  proposed  to  "  emancipate "  Irish  Catholics, 
that  is,  to  admit  them  to  seats  in  Parliament  and  to  certain 
municipal  and  other  official  positions,  the  project  was  long 
resisted  on  the  ground  that  a  people  so  dogmatic  or  "big- 
oted "  in  their  religion  would  instantly  ostracize  non-Catho- 
lics ;  that,  being  in  a  vast  majority  all  over  Ireland,  they 
would  drive  from  public  life  all  Protestant  representatives  of 
popular  constituencies,  making  religion,  not  politics,  a  test 
in  civil  affairs.  Not  a  far-fetched  apprehension,  assuredly. 
Long  excluded  from  such  civil  rights  and  privileges,  it  would 
not  have  been  very  astonishing  if  the  Irish  Catholics,  wher- 
ever they  could  command  a  parliamentary  seat  or  a  municipal 


286  NEW  IRELAND. 

honor,  kept  it  for,  or  conferred  it  on,  a  man  of  their  own 
faith,  leaving  non-Catholics,  for  whom  the  field  had  always 
been  free,  to  the  care  of  still  powerful  co-religionists.  This 
was  not  the  course  which  they  adopted.  They  no  sooner 
grasped  these  coveted  honors  and  privileges  than  they  has- 
tened to  share  them  with  their  Protestant  friends.  From  the 
day  the  Catholic  Emancipation  Act  received  the  royal  assent, 
in  1829,  to  this  hour,  the  most  Catholic  constituencies  in  Ire- 
land have  again  and  again  returned  Protestants  to  Parlia- 
ment, and  have  often  so  returned  them  in  opposition  to 
Catholics  of  less  acceptable  political  views.  Mr.  Butt,  Mr. 
Mitchell  Henry,  Mr.  Blennerhassett,  Mr.  Whitworth,  Mr. 
Gray,  Lord  Francis  Conyngham,  Mr.  Parnell,  Captain  King 
Harman,  and  other  Protestant  gentlemen  now  sitting  for 
Irish  seats,  are  elected,  as  were  their  equally  Protestant  pre- 
decessors, by  some  of  the  most  Ultramontane  and  Papal 
communities  in  Christendom ! 

This  praiseworthy  conduct,  unfortunately,  has  as  yet 
elicited  no  reciprocal  action  on  the  other  side ;  and  the  foes 
of  bigotry  and  intolerance  at  one  time  trembled  lest  a  fact 
BO  discouraging  might  ruin  the  generous  experiment.  In  no 
single  instance  has  an  Irish  Protestant  constituency  elected  a 
Catholic  to  Parliament.  Happily,  the  Catholic  majority, 
refusing  retaliation,  hold  on  to  the  principle  of  doing  what 
is  right  and  wise  and  kindly.  It  will  be  a  day  of  calamity 
for  Ireland  if  ever  the  evil  spirit  of  fanaticism  shake  them 
from  that  noble  policy. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   FATE   OF   GLENTEIH. 

IN  the  remote  and  wild  northwest  of  Ireland,  lashed  by 
billows  that  roll  from  the  frozen  ocean,  stands  ancient  Tyr- 
connell,  better  known  to  modern  ears  as  the  Donegal  High- 
lands. There  is  probably  no  part  of  the  island  of  equal  ex- 
panse more  self-contained,  or  separate,  as  it  were,  from  the 
outer  world.  Nowhere  else  have  the  native  population  more 
largely  preserved  their  peculiar  features  of  life  and  character, 
custom  and  tradition,  amidst  the  changes  of  the  last  two 
hundred  years. 

The  eastern  portion  of  Donegal  abounds  in  rich  and  fertile 
valleys,  and  is  peopled  by  a  different  race.  Two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago  all  of  the  soil  that  was  fair  to  see,  that 
seemed  worth  possessing,  was  handed  over  to  "planters," 
or  "undertakers."  The  native  Celts  were  driven  to  the 
boggy  wastes  and  trackless  hills  that  were  too  poor  or  too 
remote  for  settlers  to  accept.  Here,  shut  out  from  the  busy 
world,  their  lowly  lot  shielding  them  from  many  a  danger, 
the  descendants  of  the  faithful  clansmen  of  "  Dauntless  Red 
Hugh  "  lived  on.  Their  life  was  toilsome,  but  they  mur- 
mured not.  Along  the  western  shore,  pierced  by  many  a 
deep  bay,  or  belted  by  wastes  of  sand,  their  little  sheelings 
nestled  alongside  some  friendly  crag,  while  close  at  hand 
' '  the  deep-voiced  neighboring  ocean  "  boomed  eternally  in 
sullen  roar. 

The  scenery,  from  Slieveleague  to  Malin  Head,  is  wildly 
romantic,  and  in  some  places  surpassingly  beautiful.  There 
are  wide  stretches  of  bleak  and  utter  desolation,  but  ever  and 

287 


288  NEW  IRELAND. 

anon  the  eye  is  arrested  and  the  fancy  charmed  by  views 
which  Alpine  regions  rarely  excel.  Lough  Swilly — "the 
Lake  of  Shadows  " — is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  ocean 
inlets  on  our  coasts.  It  steals  southward  past  Buncrana  and 
historic  Eathmullen,  till  it  reaches  Letterkenny  on  the  one 
side,  and  lovely  Fauhn  on  the  other;  as  if  the  sea  had 
burst  into  a  series  of  Tyrolean  valleys.  But  there  is  not  a 
scene  among  them  all  to  match  the  weird  beauty  and  savage 
grandeur  of  lone  Glenveih  ! 

The  western,  or  Atlantic,  shore  of  Donegal  is  indented  by 
a  narrow  estuary,  which  penetrates  some  five  or  six  miles  in 
a  northeasterly  direction,  until,  at  a  place  called  Doochery, 
it  meets  the  Gweebarra  Eiver.  The  gorge  through  which 
estuary  and  river  flow  is  but  the  southwestern  section  of  a 
singular  chain  of  valleys,  which  reach  in  a  direct  line  from 
Gweebarra  Bay  to  Glen  Lough,  a  distance  of  more  than  twenty 
miles.  The  middle  section  is  Glenveih,  so  called  ;  or,  as  it 
ought  to  be,  Glenbah, — the  Glen  of  Silver  Birches.  It  is 
truly  a  most  romantic  spot.  The  mountains  rise  boldly  to  a 
height  of  over  a  thousand  feet  on  either  side,  and  are  clothed 
in  great  part  with  indigenous  forest ;  while  sleeping  calmly  in 
the  vale  below,  following  its  gentle  windings,  broadening  and 
narrowing  as  the  hills  give  room,  is  the  lake, — Lough  Veih. 

The  mountain-district  around  is  of  the  wildest  character. 
Thirty  years  ago  it  was  inhabited  by  a  people  such  as  one 
might  meet  amidst  the  crags  of  the  Interthal  or  Passeyr, — 
sometimes  passionate,  always  hospitable ;  frugal,  hardy,  in- 
ured to  toil.  They  eked  out  a  poor  existence  less  by  their 
little  farm-plots  than  by  rearing  on  the  mountains  young 
stock,  which  at  the  suitable  seasons  they  sold  to  the  comfort- 
able and  prosperous  Presbyterian  plantation-men  of  Eaphoe 
and  Lifford  districts. 

Little  more  than  twenty  years  ago  there  chanced  to  pass 
through  Derryveih,*  as  the  immediate  district  is  called,  on 

*  "  Derryveih,"  "  Loughveih,"  and  "  Glenveih  "  mean  respectively 
the  wood  or  forest,  the  lake,  and  the  glen  of  silver  birches. 


THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH.  289 

sporting  purposes  bent,  Mr.  John  George  Adair,  of  Bellgrove, 
in  Queen's  County.  He  was  so  struck,  he  says,  with  the 
charms  of  the  scenery,  that  he  determined  to  become  pro- 
prietor of  the  place.  Between  August,  1857,  and  May,  1858, 
he  succeeded  in  purchasing  a  great  part  in  fee-simple,  and  a 
fee-farm  interest  in  a  further  portion.  It  was  an  evil  day 
for  the  mountaineers  when  Mr.  Adair  first  set  eye  on  their 
home.  Notwithstanding  the  storm  of  terrible  accusations 
which  that  gentleman  soon  after  poured  upon  them,  and  the 
disturbance,  conflict,  and  crime  which  attended  upon  or 
arose  out  of  his  proprietorial  proceedings,  the  fact  is  signifi- 
cant that  at  the  period  of  his  purchase,  and  even  subse- 
quently, the  Glenveih  peasantry  were  on  the  best  and  kindli- 
est relations  with  their  landlords,  and  that  the  surrounding 
gentry,  and  the  clergy  of  all  religious  denominations,  to  the 
very  last  spoke  and  speak  of  them  in  terms  of  warmest 
sympathy  and  compassion.  No  sooner,  however,  does  Mr. 
Adair  enter  on  the  scene  than  a  sad  and  startling  change 
appears.  The  picture  drawn  by  the  previous  and  surround- 
ing landlords,  of  a  simple,  kindly,  and  peaceable  peasantry, 
gives  way  to  one  sketched  by  Mr.  Adair  of  a  lawless,  violent, 
thieving,  murderous  gang,  whose  extirpation  is  a  mission 
which  has  devolved  on  him  in  the  interests  of  "society." 
The  first  act  of  the  new  landlord  was  ominous  of  what  was 
to  follow.  The  purchases  were  completed  by  the  30th  of 
April,  when  what  was  called  the  Gartan  estates  passed  to 
him  from  Mr.  Cornwall.  In  May  he  began  operations  by 
the  erection  of  a  police-barrack,  and  close  to  it,  under  the 
cover  of  its  guns,  a  "  pound, "—or  prison  for  seized  cattle. 
I  know  a  little  of  Mr.  Adair.  He  had  been,  if  not  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Tenant  League,  a  Tenant-Eight  candidate  for 
Parliament  in  1852.  In  these  proceedings  of  his  I  have 
never  regarded  him  as  a  man  who  coldly  planned  barbarity, 
or  designed  injustice,  when  he  entered  upon  the  career  of 
landlord  in  Donegal.  Kay,  I  incline  to  believe  he  meant  to 
use  kindly,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  the  despotic  power 
13 


290  NEW  IRELAND. 

which  he  claimed.  But  a  thwarted  despot  soon  forgets  be- 
nevolent intentions,  and  thinks  only  of  asserting  his  power 
and  of  crushing  without  mercy  those  who  war  against  it. 
The  police-barrack  and  the  pound  were  the  first  indications 
of  the  spirit  of  Mr.  Adair's  rule.  I  am  not  aware  that  the 
old  landlord  had  need  of  these  institutions.  The  people  at 
all  events  looked  askance  at  them  ;  and  on  the  threshold  of 
his  proceedings  Mr.  Adair  was  prejudiced  in  their  eyes. 
The  21st  of  August  found  that  gentleman  on  the  hills,  gun 
in  hand,  shooting  over  the  lands  upon  which  Mr.  Johnson, 
the  late  landlord,  was  alone  understood  to  possess  the  right 
of  sporting.  The  tenants,  headed  by  one  James  Corrin, 
either  by  express  order  from  Mr.  Johnson  or  under  some 
idea  of  duty  toward  him,  resisted  Mr.  Adair's  attempt  to 
shoot  over  the  lands,  and  a  rather  angry  conflict  or  scuffle 
ensued.  Mr.  Adair  indicted  Corrin  and  the  other  tenants, 
for  this  "  assault ; "  but  the  real  nature  of  the  affray  is  suffi- 
ciently attested  by  the  fact  that  en  the  23d  of  October  the 
grand  jury  threw  out  the  bills,  and  next  Michaelmas  term 
Corrin — significantly  enough,  through  the  attorney  of  his 
landlord,  Mr.  Johnson — filed  an  action  for  assault  and  bat- 
tery and  malicious  prosecution  against  Mr.  Adair.  On  the 
16th  and  17th  of  February  next  year,  1859,  the  action  came 
to  trial  before  the  Lord  Chief  Baron  in  Dublin.  It  resulted 
in  a  verdict  that  Mr.  Adair  had  committed  an  assault,  but 
that  it  had  been  in  exercise  of  a  lawful  right  of  sporting. 
Next  ensuing  term  Corrin  served  notice  for  a  new  trial  in 
the  superior  courts,  and  so  the  litigation  went  on. 

Out  of  this  dispute,  this  paltry  quarrel  of  Mr.  Adair  with 
poor  mountaineers  defending,  as  they  believed,  the  rights  of 
an  old  landlord — sprang  events  that  will  never  be  forgotten 
in  Donegal. 

From  Easter  to  midsummer  it  was  open  war  between  the 
great  man  and  the  poor  peasants, — the  latter,  however,  being 
warmly  befriended  by  the  neighboring  magistrates  and  land- 
lords, Colonel  Humfrey  especially.  On  the  2d  of  July  Mr. 


THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH.  291 

Adair  had  several  of  the  tenants  arrested  and  brought  before 
him  at  Glenveih,  the  wretched  people  being  marched  sixty 
miles  to  and  from  prisons  ;  yet  five  days  afterward  they  were 
discharged  by  two  resident  and  two  local  magistrates  at  Church 
Hill  petty  sessions.  At  length  he  determined  to  put  himself, 
at  any  cost,  in  a  position  which  would  give  him  absolute  do- 
minion over  these  audacious  peasants.  In  October,  1859,  he 
bought  up  the  fee-farm  interest  of  the  remainder  of  Derryveih, 
eleven  thousand  nine  hundred  and  fifty-six  acres,  through  Mr. 
T.  C.  Trench,  at  a  rent  above  the  total  payable  by  the  tenants. 
By  this  time — between  the  purchase,  on  the  22d  of  August, 
1857,  from  Mr.  Pitt  Skipton,  the  29th  of  April,  1858,  from 
Colonel  Humfrey  and  Mr.  Johnson,  the  30th  of  April,  the 
Gartan  estate  from  Mr.  Cornwall,  and  the  10th  of  October, 
1859,  from  Mr.  Johnson — he  had  become  absolute  monarch 
of  nearly  ninety  square  miles  of  country.  This  eager  anxiety 
to  buy  more  and  more  as  time  went  on  was  assuredly  incon- 
sistent with  the  idea  subsequently  put  forward  by  Mr.  Adair, 
that  it  was  an  affliction  to  him  to  be  the  landlord  of  such  a 
people. 

Just  about  the  time  this  gentleman  appeared  in  those  parts, 
Western  Donegal  was  going  through  hard  times  and  bitter 
conflict  over  "  Scotch  sheep."  Some  two  or  three  of  the  pro- 
prietors had  conceived  the  idea — or,  more  probably,  had  been 
weakly  persuaded  by  Scotch  farm-stewards — that  fortunes 
might  be  made  out  of  those  wild  mountains,  now  used  solely 
by  the  cottiers  for  grazing  a  few  goats,  heifers,  and  sheep. 
By  taking  up  the  mountains  wholly  or  in  part  from  the  peo- 
ple, and  extensively  stocking  them  with  imported  black- 
faced  sheep,  these  landlords  were  led  to  believe  that  thousands 
a  year  might  be  cleared  in  profit.  The  attempt  to  deprive 
the  people  of  the  mountains  led  to  deplorable  conflict,  suf- 
fering, and  loss.  The  benevolent  pretext  of  "  squaring  the 
farms  " — sometimes,  no  doubt,  genuine  and  well-meant  mo- 
tive, but  occasionally  an  excuse  for  dexterously  cheating  the 
people — did  not  avail.  While  the  cottiers  and  the  landlords 


293  NEW  IRELAND. 

were  fighting  over  the  question,  lo !  the  Scotch  shepherds 
announced  that  the  black-faced  sheep  were  disappearing  from 
the  hills, — stolen  by  the  hostile  inhabitants,  it  was  of  course 
assumed.  Search  of  the  tenants'  houses  failed  to  verify  this 
conclusion.  Some  few  traces  of  such  thefts  were  found  here 
and  there,  but  not  in  any  extent  to  account  for  the  disappear- 
ance of  so  many  hundred  sheep.  Soon  what  had  happened 
became  more  clear.  The  dead  bodies  of  the  sheep  were  found 
in  scores  all  over  the  hills, — killed  by  the  lawless  natives,  it 
was  now  concluded.  Presentments  for  the  value  of  the 
sheep  thus  assumed  to  have  been  "  maliciously  destroyed  " 
were  levied  on  the  districts.  Still  the  destruction,  or  rather 
the  mysterious  disappearance,  of  the  sheep  went  on.  The 
more  it  did,  the  more  heavy  the  penalty  was  made ;  and  the 
more  sweeping  the  presentments,  the  more  extensive  grew  the 
destruction ! 

At  last  it  occurred  to  one  of  the  Crown  officials  that  there 
was  something  suspicious  in  all  this.  He  noted  that  whereas 
the  sheep  imported  from  Scotland  cost  from  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence  to  ten  shillings  a  head,  on  the  mountain  they 
were  presented  for  at  seventeen  and  sixpence  to  twenty-five 
shillings.  It  occurred  to  him  that  while  this  went  on,  sheep- 
losing  would  flourish.  Suspicion  once  aroused,  strange  facts 
came  to  light.  The  houses  of  the  shepherds  themselves  were 
searched,  and  mutton  in  rather  too  generous  abundance  was 
found.  Then  serious  investigation  was  prosecuted,  when  it 
was  incontestably  established  that  the  sheep  had  perished  in 
large  numbers  from  stress  of  weather,  still  more  extensively 
from  falling  over  crags  and  precipices,  and  to  some  compara- 
tively small  extent  by  the  surreptitious  supply  of  the  shep- 
herds' tables.  Shortly  came  the  remarkable  fact  of  the  going 
judges  of  assize  indignantly  refusing  to  fiat  these  monstrous 
claims,  and  denouncing  the  whole  proceedings.*  MiraUle 

*  August  1,  1860.  After  the  verdict  of  the  jury  at  Lifford  assizes 
had  declared  the  sheep  to  have  perished  as  I  have  described,  the  judge, 


THE  FATE  OF  OLENVEIH.  293 

dictu,  when  the  presentments  were  stopped,  the  black-faced 
sheep  importation  fell  through  ! 

But  in  the  interval  what  suffering  had  been  yisited  on  the 
wretched  people  !  The  "levies"  had  reduced  them,  poor  as 
they  were  at  best,  to  a  plight  which  might  have  excited  the 
compassion  of  a  Kurd  marauder.  I  traveled  all  the  way 
from  Dublin  to  investigate  the  facts  for  myself  in  the  spring 
of  1858.  I  was  much  excited  by  all  that  I  saw  and  heard,  and 
I  took  an  active,  perhaps  an  angry,  part  in  the  public  agita- 
tion which  ensued.  No  Bulgarian  hut  after  a  raid  of  Bashi- 
bazouks,  or  Armenian  hovel  after  a  Cossack  foray,  could 
present  a  more  wretched  spectacle  of  desolation  than  did 
those  Donegal  sheelings  after  the  levies  had  swept  the  dis- 
trict. Yet  what  the  poor  people  seemed  to  feel  as  acutely  as 
the  seizure  and  carting  off  of  their  little  stock — their  heifers 
and  goats,  and  pigs  and  poultry,  nay,  their  bedsteads  and 
pots  and  pans — was  that  they  were  held  up  to  the  world  as 
thieves  and  sheep-stealers.  I  dare  say  some  sheep  had  been 
stolen,  but  certainly  not  in  any  sense  by  a  general  system  or 
with  popular  sympathy.  It  seemed  to  me  that  some  one  or 
two  undoubted  instances  of  theft  or  destruction  at  the  first 
suggested  the  evil  system,  which  soon  was  adopted,  of  attrib- 
uting all  the  loss  to  the  criminal  conduct  of  the  popula- 
tion. 

Mr.  Adair,  too,  went  in  for  black-faced  sheep  ;  and  of  all 
the  landlords  who  entered  upon  that  sort  of  speculation  he 
was  the  angriest  at  the  lawless  savagery  (as  he  conceived)  of 
the  natives  in  this  "malicious  destruction."  In  January, 
18GO,  he  had  given  "notice  to  quit"  to  his  tenantry,  but 
only,  he  told  them,  for  the  purpose  of  "squaring  the  farms." 
The  loss  of  the  sheep,  following  so  closely  on  other  causes  of 
quarrel,  brought  things  to  an  unhappy  pass  between  him 
and  the  people.  How  the  truth  lay  in  the  sheep  question 

Chief -Justice  Monahan,  said,  "I  am  as  satisfied  as  I  am  of  my  very 
existence  that  those  sheep  were  not  maliciously  killed." 


294  NEW  IRELAND. 

may  be  inferred  from  the  following  official  resolution  of  the 
assembled  magistrates  at  Church  Hill  sessions  : 

"  The  bench  are  unanimously  of  opinion  that  no  sheep  of  Mr.  Adair's 
were  maliciously  injured  or  made  away  with  ;  and  we  find  that  through 
the  constabulary  sixty-six  sheep  have  been  found  dead  from  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather,  as  there  was  no  mark  of  injury  on  them." 

But  soon,  unfortunately,  he  was  to  have  still  weightier 
cause  for  resentment,  a  more  terrible  impulsion  to  anger  and 
passion.  On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  November,  his 
manager,  James  Murray,  left  Glenveih  Cottage.  He  was 
never  seen  alive  afterward.  On  the  15th  his  body  was  found 
on  the  mountains,  with  marks  of  violence,  which  the 
coroner's  jury  declared  to  have  been  given  by  a  murderer's 
hand.  The  only  witness  examined  (besides  a  surgeon)  was  a 
Scotch  assistant  shepherd,  Dugald  Rankin ;  and  his  bias 
against  the  Glenveih  people  was  supposed  to  be  strong.* 
Mr.  Adair,  as  he  gazed  on  the  corpse  of  his  servant, — mur- 
dered, as  he  verily  believed,  for  stern  discharge  of  his  duties, 
— revolved  in  his  mind  a  terrible  determination.  He  grouped 
together  a  catalogue  of,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  persistent  and 
wide-spread  crimes.  Two  of  his  dogs  had  been  poisoned, 
though  the  presentment  sessions  refused  to  admit  the  act 
was  malicious.  An  outhouse  at  Gartan  Glebe  was  found  to 
be  on  fire  while  he  was  a  guest  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Maturin. 
Two  hundred  of  his  sheep  had  been  killed  on  the  mountains, 
though  the  magistrates  would  insist  it  was  by  accident  or 
tempest.  And  now  his  manager  had  been  foully  slain.  He 
would  show  these  people  that  he  could  conquer.  He  would 
make  them  feel  how  terrible  his  vengeance  could  be. 

The  resolution  formed  by  Mr.  Adair  was  to  sweep  away 
the  whole  population  of  Derryveih,  chiefly  concentrated,  I 
believe,  in  a  little  hamlet  on  the  Lough  Gartan  side  of  the 

*  On  the  1st  of  March  Rankin  was  carried  to  jail  at  Strabane,  for 
presenting  a  pistol  at  a  man  named  Gallagher  and  wounding  Constable 
Patrick  Morgan, 


THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH.  295 

hill.*  He  applied  for  and  received  a  special  force  of  police 
to  protect  his  herd  and  himself,  in  view  of  the  desperate 
undertaking  upon  which  he  was  now  entering.  A  parlia- 
mentary return  issued  in  May,  1861,  makes  some  curious 
revelations  as  to  Mr.  Adair's  quarrels  with  the  executive  in 
Dublin  Castle  over  the  cost  and  efficiency  of  this  protective 
garrison.  In  truth,  despite  the  heavy  case  he  was  able  to 
adduce,  the  Government  authorities,  the  local  magistrates, 
the  clergy,  Protestant  and  Catholic,  the  police  inspectors,  all 
manifested  clearly  their  sorrow,  alarm,  or  resentment  at  the 
monstrous  proceeding  he  contemplated, — nothing  less  than 
the  expulsion  of  hundreds  of  innocent  people,  men  and  wo- 
men, the  aged  and  the  young,  in  vengeance  for  the  crime  of 
some  undiscovered  individual.  The  neighboring  landlords 
seemed  to  regard  him  as  a  deadly  combustible  planted  in 
their  midst,  a  gentleman  whose  "  sense  of  duty"  had  resulted 
in  plunging  their  county  into  a  condition  which  caused  them 
vexation  and  uneasiness.  The  magistrates  of  the  district, 
assembled  at  Church  Hill,  felt  the  situation  so  strongly  that 
they  passed  the  following  resolution  : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  outrages  complained  of  have,  in  our  opinion, 
arisen  from  causes  unconnected  with  any  matter  having  relation  to  the 
adjoining  estates,  hitherto  and  now  in  a  state  of  perfect  tranquility." 

Mr.  Dillon,  the  resident  magistrate,  writing  to  the  Tinder- 
Secretary  for  Ireland,  Sir  Thomas  Larcom,  asks,  "  Is  it  my 
duty  and  that  of  the  police  to  stand  by  and  give  protection 
•while  the  houses  are  being  leveled  ?  "  The  Protestant  rector, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Maturin,  writing  to  the  Dublin  Daily  Express 
after  Mr.  Adair's  vengeance  had  been  wreaked,  says, — 

"  The  presumption  is  as  strong  that  the  persons  who  committed  the 
murder  were  not  connected  with  the  district.  ...  I  could  mention 
other  reasons  certainly  suspicious  and  somewhat  mysterious.  .  .  . 

*  Derryveih  Mountain  divides  the  two  lakes  of  Lough  Glenveih,  or 
Loughveih,  and  Lough  Derryveih,  or  Lough  Gartan.  At  Gartan,  St. 
Columha,  or  Columbkille,  was  born,  A.D.  521. 


296  NEW  IRELAND. 

What  would  be  Mr.  Adair's  feelings  if  it  were  found  out  hereafter  that 
the  murder  was  committed  by  persons  in  no  way  connected  with  the 
Derryveigh  tenantry  now  exterminated  on  account  of  it,  and  whose 
wailings  might  then,  without  avail,  forever  ring  in  his  ears  ?  " 

Indeed,  although  the  hapless  mountaineers  were,  I  believe, 
exclusively  Catholic,  this  kindly-hearted  and  estimable  Prot- 
estant clergyman  flung  himself  into  the  forefront  of  every 
effort  to  save  them.  He  and  the  Catholic  priest  of  the  dis- 
trict, the  Kev.  Mr.  Kair,  drew  up  and  forwarded  to  Mr. 
Adair  a  joint  letter,  in  which  they  felt  confident  they  would 
not  appeal  in  vain  to  his  mercy.  They  bore  the  strongest 
testimony  to  the  virtuous  character  and  the  kindly  and  peace- 
able nature  of  the  threatened  people,  whom  they  had  known 
all  their  lives,  and  emphatically  denied  that  any  suspicion  of 
complicity  in  Murray's  murder  could  justly  be  laid  against 
them.  Mr.  Adair's  reply  was  stern  and  inexorable.  He  re- 
cited all  the  outrages,  real  and  fancied.  With  the  deepest 
regret  for  what  he  considered  a  necessity,  he  was  determined 
to  evict  the  inhabitants  of  that  part  of  the  property.  Some 
of  known  good  character  he  would  not  disturb.  To  such  as 
had  brought  good  characters  from  the  reverend  appellants  he 
had  offered  mountain-holdings,  with  leases,  elsewhere.  I 
need  follow  his  plea  no  further.  The  man  who  conceives 
himself  to  be  "  a  savior  of  society"  has  a  pious  justification 
for  any  extremity  of  conduct. 

News  of  the  storm  about  to  burst  upon  them  reached  the 
people  early  in  February,  1861.  Some  realized  its  terrible 
import ;  but  the  majority  did  not.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  up 
to  the  hour  of  the  evictions,  few  of  them  would  believe  that 
such  a  menace  would  or  could  be  carried  out.  In  this  remote 
and  lonely  region  nothing  they  had  ever  heard  suggested  the 
possession  of  such  a  power  by  any  one.  They  owed  no  rent. 
They  had  done  no  man  wrong.  Mr.  Adair,  on  the  4th  of 
February,  called  into  Dublin  Castle,  and  there  quietly  swore 
an  information,  that  being  about  to  serve  ejectment-notices 
on  his  tenants,  he  believed  the  life  of  the  bailiff  would  be  un- 


THE  PATE  OF  GLENVELE.  297 

safe  without  an  armed  escort.  The  resident  magistrate,  Mr. 
Considine,  who  gave  the  escort,  says  the  ejectments  "were 
served  by  Mr.  Adair  s  gamekeeper  without  the  least  hindrance 
being  offered  by  the  tenantry."  In  fact,  it  is  curious  to  no- 
tice the  fatal  calm  which  hung  over  the  valley  itself,  while, 
unknown  to  its  doomed  people,  the  "outer  world" — the 
magistrates  and  police  officials,  nay,  the  executive  in  Dublin 
— were  in  no  little  excitement  and  apprehension  as  the  evil 
day  drew  near.  The  correspondence  between  the  various  offi- 
cials and  public  departments  as  to  the  drafting  and  concen- 
tration of  police  detachments  and  military  companies,  fills 
several  pages  of  a  blue-book.  The  dispositions  and  arrange- 
ments were  almost  as  formidable  as  if  Derryveigh  had  to  be 
stormed  and  carried  from  an  intrenched  army.  Mr.  Cruik- 
shank,  the  sub-sheriff,  writing  to  Sir  Thomas  Larcom,  Un- 
der-Secretary,  says  that  besides  two  hundred  constabulary 
being  drafted  from  various  parts,  he  will  require  some  mili- 
tary with  tents  and  baggage  to  be  sent  from  Dublin  : 

"  I  have  therefore  to  request  that  one  officer  and  thirty  rank  and  file 
be  ordered  to  meet  me  at  Lough  Barra,  on  Monday  the  8th  instant,  at 
twelve  o'clock,  in  aid  of  the  civil  power.  If  the  party  leave  Dublin  by 
rail  on  Friday  morning,  they  will  reach  Strabane  at  four  o'clock,  wait 
there  that  night ;  march  next  day  to  Letterkenny,  a  distance  of  four- 
teen Irish  miles,  rest  there  Sunday,  and  meet  me  and  the  constabulary 
early  on  Monday.  As  it  is  likely  the  force  will  be  employed  Monday 
and  Tuesday  and  part  of  Wednesday,  I  would  suggest  for  your  consid- 
eration the  prudence,  if  not  necessity,  of  the  soldiers  being  provided 
with  tents,  as  it  will  be  impossible  in  a  mountain-country  such  as  Glen- 
veih  to  get  for  them  accommodation  for  the  night ;  and  after  remaining 
some  time  under  arms  they  could  not  march  back  to  Letterkenny, 
nearly  ten  Irish  miles,  and  return  the  next  day." 

On  the  night  of  Sunday  the  7th  of  April  the  several  de- 
tachments had  closed  in  around  the  place,  occupying  or  com- 
manding the  only  available  entrances  or  passes.  Still  the 
hapless  people,  in  fatal  confidence,  slumbered  on.  It  was 
like  the  sleep  of  the  Macdonalds  on  the  night  before  Glen- 
coe. 

13* 


298  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  the  early  morning  of  Monday,  the  8th  of  April,  1861, 
the  sight  of  the  red-coats  and  the  glitter  of  bayonets  at  the 
southern  entrance  to  the  valley  gave  signal  of  alarm  ;  and 
from  house  to  house,  and  hill  to  hill,  along  Lough  Gartan 
side,  a  halloo  was  sent  afar.  Soon  there  rose  on  the  morning 
air  a  wail  that  chilled  even  the  sternest  heart.  The  poor 
people  came  out  of  their  cabins  in  groups,  and  looked 
at  the  approaching  force,  and  there  burst  from  the  women 
and  children  a  cry  of  agony  that  pierced  the  heavens. 
The  special  correspondent  of  the  Derry  Standard,  a  leading 
Presbyterian  journal  in  the  neighboring  county,  gives  the 
following  account  of  what  he  saw  :  "The  first  eviction  was 
one  peculiarly  distressing,  and  the  terrible  reality  of  the  law 
suddenly  burst  with  surprise  on  the  spectators.  Having 
arrived  at  Loughbarra,  the  police  were  halted,  and  the  sheriff, 
with  a  small  escort,  proceeded  to  the  house  of  a  widow  named 
M'Award,  aged  sixty  years,  living  with  whom  were  six 
daughters  and  a  son.  Long  before  the  house  was  reached 
loud  cries  were  heard  piercing  the  air,  and  soon  the  figures 
of  the  poor  widow  and  her  daughters  were  observed  outside 
the  house,  where  they  gave  vent  to  their  grief  in  strains  of 
touching  agony.  Forced  to  discharge  an  unpleasant  duty, 
the  sheriff  entered  the  house  and  delivered  up  possession  to 
Mr.  Adair's  steward,  whereupon  six  men,  who  had  been 
brought  from  a  distance,  immediately  fell  to  to  level  the 
house  to  the  ground.  The  scene  then  became  indescribable. 
The  bereaved  widow  and  her  daughters  were  frantic  with 
despair.  Throwing  themselves  on  the  ground  they  became 
almost  insensible,  and  bursting  out  in  the  old  Irish  wail, — 
then  heard  by  many  for  the  first  time, — their  terrifying  cries 
resounded  along  the  mountain-side  for  many  miles.  They 
had  been  deprived  of  the  little  spot  made  dear  to  them  by 
associations  of  the  past,  and,  with  bleak  poverty  before  them, 
and  only  the  blue  sky  to  shelter  them,  they  naturally  lost  all 
hope,  and  those  who  witnessed  their  agony  will  never  forget 
the  sight.  No  one  could  stand  by  unmoved.  Every  heart 


THE  FATE  OF  OLENVEIH.  299 

was  touched,  and  tears  of  sympathy  flowed  from  many.  In 
a  short  time  we  withdrew  from  the  scene,  leaving  the  widow 
and  her  orphans  surrounded  by  a  small  group  of  neigh- 
bors, who  could  only  express  their  sympathy  for  the  home- 
less, without  possessing  the  power  to  relieve  them.  During 
that  and  the  next  two  days  the  entire  holdings  in  the  lands 
mentioned  above  were  visited,  and  it  was  not  until  an  ad- 
vanced hour  on  Wednesday  the  evictions  were  finished.  In 
all  the  evictions  the  distress  of  the  poor  people  was  equal  to 
that  depicted  in  the  first  case.  Dearly  did  they  cling  to  their 
homes  till  the  last  moment,  and  while  the  male  population 
bestirred  themselves  in  clearing  the  houses  of  what  scanty 
furniture  they  contained,  the  women  and  children  remained 
within  till  the  sheriff's  bailiff  warned  them  out,  and  even 
then  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  tear  themselves  away 
from  the  scenes  of  happier  days.  In  many  cases  they  bade 
an  affectionate  adieu  to  their  former  peaceable  but  now  des- 
olate homes.  One  old  man  near  the  fourscore  years  and  ten 
on  leaving  his  house  for  the  last  time  reverently  kissed  the 
door-posts,  with  all  the  impassioned  tenderness  of  an  emigrant 
leaving  his  native  land.  His  wife  and  children  followed  his 
example,  and  in  agonized  silence  the  afflicted  family  stood 
by  and  watched  the  destruction  of  their  dwelling.  In  another 
case  an  old  man,  aged  ninety,  who  was  lying  ill  in  bed,  was 
brought  out  of  the  house  in  order  that  formal  possession 
might  be  taken,  but  readmitted  for  a  week  to  permit  of  his 
removal.  In  nearly  every  house  there  was  some  one  far  ad- 
vanced in  age, — many  of  them  tottering  to  the  grave, — while 
the  sobs  of  helpless  children  took  hold  of  every  heart.  "When 
dispossessed,  the  families  grouped  themselves  on  the  ground 
beside  the  ruins  of  their  late  homes,  having  no  place  of 
refuge  near.  The  dumb  animals  refused  to  leave  the  wall- 
steads,  and  in  some  cases  were  with  difficulty  rescued  from 
the  falling  timbers.  As  night  set  in,  the  scene  became  fear- 
fully sad.  Passing  along  the  base  of  the  mountain  the  spec- 
tator might  have  observed  near  to  each  house  its  former 


300  NEW  IRELAND. 

inmates  crouching  round  a  turf  fire  close  by  a  hedge ;  and 
as  a  drizzling  rain  poured  upon  them  they  found  no  cover, 
and  were  entirely  exposed  to  it, — but  only  sought  to  warm 
their  famished  bodies.  Many  of  them  were  but  miserably 
clad,  and  on  all  sides  the  greatest  desolation  was  apparent. 
I  learned  afterward  that  the  great  majority  of  them  lay  out 
all  night,  either  behind  the  hedges  or  in  a  little  wood  which 
skirts  the  lake ;  they  had  no  other  alternative.  I  believe 
many  of  them  intend  resorting  to  the  poorhouse.  There 
these  poor  starving  people  remain  on  the  cold  bleak  moun- 
tains, no  one  caring  for  them,  whether  they  live  or  die.  'Tis 
horrible  to  think  of,  but  more  horrible  to  behold." 

This  news  reached  me  in  Dublin.  I  had  been  striving 
hard  for  these  poor  people.  I  had,  especially  since  my  visit 
to  a  neighboring  district  three  years  before,  felt  the  deepest, 
the  most  earnest  interest  in  them.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say, 
even  now,  that  I  wept  like  a  child.  But  idle  weeping  could 
avail  nothing  for  the  victims.  What  should  we  do  now  ? 
They  must  not  perish.  They  must  be  saved.  So  vowed 
some  friends  who  felt  as  deeply  as  I  did  their  unmerited 
fate.  Public  opinion  was  stirred  to  its  depths  by  this  terrible 
event.  Our  journals  called  at  once  for  public  aid,  and  it 
was  promptly  forthcoming.  A  local  committee  of  relief 
was  organized,  and  an  appeal  to  Christian  hearts  all  over 
the  world  was  issued.  This  remarkable  document  bore  the 
signatures  of  the  Catholic  bishop,  the  most  Rev.  Dr.  Mc- 
Gettigan  ;  the  Episcopalian  Protestant  rector,  Rev.  Mr.  Ma- 
turin ;  the  Presbyterian  minister,  Rev.  Mr.  Jack ;  and  the 
Catholic  parish  priest,  Rev.  Mr.  Kair.  It  told  the  whole 
story,  and  refuted  in  warm  language  the  aspersions  and  accu- 
sations that  had  been  used  as  a  pretext  for  the  desolation. 
The  appeal  was  most  liberally  answered  at  home.  Men  of 
all  ranks  and  classes,  creeds  and  parties,  poured  in  their  con- 
tributions. But  the  crowning  act  of  rescue  was  the  work  of 
Irishmen  far  away  under  the  Southern  Cross.  The  (Aus- 
tralian) Donegal  Celtic  Relief  Committee,  established  in  Mel- 


THE  FATE  OF  OLENVEIH.  301 

bourne, — mainly  by  the  exertions  of  the  late  Hon.  Michael 
O'Grady,  M.L.C.,  to  whom  I  had  early  written  on  the  sub- 
ject,—decided  to  bring  out  to  "  happy  homes  and  altars 
free  "  these  victims  of  a  heartless  wrong.  Ample  funds  were 
at  once  supplied,  and  an  official  agent  of  the  Victorian  Gov- 
ernment was  dispatched  to  make  special  arrangements  in 
conjunction  with  the  local  committee  in  Ireland  for  effecting 
this  generous  purpose.  The  news  created  a  great  sensation 
in  Donegal.  The  poor  people  were  sought  out  and  collected. 
Some  by  this  time  had  sunk  beneath  their  sufferings.  One 
man,  named  Bradley,  had  lost  his  reason  under  the  shock. 
Other  cases  were  nearly  as  heart-rending.  There  were  old 
men  who  would  keep  wandering  over  the  hills  in  view  of 
their  ruined  homes,  full  of  the  idea  that  some  day  Mr.  Adair 
might  let  them  return,  but  who  at  last  had  to  be  borne  to  the 
distant  workhouse  hospital  to  die.  With  a  strange  mixture 
of  joy  and  sadness  the  survivors  heard  that  friends  in  Aus- 
tralia had  paid  their  way  to  a  new  and  better  land.  On  the 
day  they  were  to  set  out  for  the  railway-station,  en  route  for 
Liverpool,  a  strange  scene  was  witnessed.  The  cavalcade 
was  accompanied  by  a  concourse  of  neighbors  and  sympa- 
thizers. They  had  to  pass  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
ancient  burial-ground,  where  "the  rude  forefathers  "  of  the 
valley  slept.  They  halted,  turned  aside,  and  proceeded  to 
the  grass-grown  cemetery.  Here  in  a  body  they  knelt,  flung 
themselves  on  the  graves  of  their  relatives,  which  they  rev- 
erently kissed  again  and  again,  and  raised  for  the  last  time 
the  Irish  caoine  or  funeral  wail.  Then — some  of  them  pull- 
ing tufts  of  grass  which  they  placed  in  their  bosoms — they 
resumed  their  way  on  the  road  to  exile.  At  Dublin  I  saw 
them  as  they  halted  between  the  arrival  of  their  train  and 
the  departure  of  the  'cross-Channel  boat  for  Liverpool.  As 
they  marched  through  the  streets  to  a  restaurant,  where  din- 
ner had  been  provided  for  them,  they  excited  the  greatest 
curiosity  and  interest.  "The  emigrants,  male  and  female," 
said  one  of  the  city  papers,  "presented  an  appearance  well 


302  NEW  IEELAND. 

calculated  to  excite  admiration  and  sympathy.  A  finer  body 
of  men  and  women  never  left  any  country.  In  stature  tall, 
with  handsome  and  well-shaped  features  full  of  kindly  ex- 
pression, they  filled  the  breast  of  every  spectator  with  regret 
that  such  a  people  should  be  lost  to  us  forever."  They  were 
being  accompanied  as  far  as  Liverpool  by  the  Eev.  James 
McFadden,  a  fine-hearted  young  priest  who  had  labored  de- 
votedly for  them  from  the  first  hour  of  their  misfortunes.  I 
quote  from  the  same  journal  the  following  account  of  his 
farewell  address,  a  scene  which  it  was  impossible  to  behold 
unmoved  : 

"  When  dinner  had  concluded,  Rev.  Mr.  McPadden,  amidst  the  most 
solemn  stillness,  briefly  addressed  the  assemblage  ;  and  it  was  a  most 
touching  sight.  He  spoke  in  the  Gaelic  tongue,  the  language  of  their 
homes  and  firesides  ere  Adair  had  leveled  the  one  and  quenched  the 
other  forever.  As  the  young  priest  spoke,  his  own  voice  full  of  emotion, 
the  painful  silence  all  around  soon  became  broken  by  the  sobs  of  women, 
and  tears  flowed  freely  down  many  a  cheek.  He  reminded  them  that 
was  their  last  meal  partaken  of  on  Irish  soil  ;  that  in  a  few  hours  they 
would  have  left  Ireland  forever.  He  spoke  of  their  old  homes  amidst 
the  Donegal  hills  ;  of  the  happy  days  passed  in  the  now  silent  and  deso- 
late valley  of  Derryveih ;  of  the  peace  and  happiness  that  they  had 
known  then,  because  they  were  contented,  and  were  free  from  tempta- 
tions and  dangers  of  which  the  busy  world  was  full.  He  reminded  them 
of  their  simple  lives  ;  the  Sunday  mass,  so  regularly  attended  ;  the  con- 
fession ;  the  consolations  of  faith.  Many  a  cheek  was  wet  as  he  alluded 
to  how  they  would  be  missed  by  the  priest  whose  flock  they  were. 
But  most  of  all  their  lot  was  sorrowful  in  the  fact  that,  while  other 
emigrants  left  behind  them  parents  and  relatives  over  whom  the  old 
roof -tree  remained,  they,  alas  !  left  theirs  under  no  shelter  of  a  home  ; 
they  left  them  wanderers  and  outcasts,  trusting  to  workhouse  fare  or 
wayside  charity.  But  (said  he)  you  are  going  to  a  better  land,  a  free 
country  where  there  are  no  tyrants,  because  there  are  no  slaves. 
Friends  have  reached  out  their  hands  to  you  ;  those  friends  await  you 
on  the  shore  of  that  better  land.  And  here,  too,  in  this  city,  hearts 
equally  true  and  kindly  have  met  you.  Let  your  last  word  on  Irish 
ground  be  to  thank  the  good  gentleman  who  now  stands  by  my  side, 
Mr.  Alexander  M.  Sullivan.  He  it  is  who  has,  amidst  all  his  numer. 
ous  cares  of  business,  found  time  to  make  these  arrangements  to  meet 
your  wants  and  make  you  comfortable  in  passing  through  this  city. 


THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH.  303 

Busy  as  this  day  has  been  with  him,  there  he  was  to  meet  us  at  the 
train,  and  here  he  has  been  attending  to  you  as  if  you  were  members 
of  his  own  family.  But  it  is  only  part  of  a  long  work  of  goodness 
done  for  the  people  of  Donegal  since  first  on  that  memorable  Christmas 
Eve  he  raised  the  first  call  for  our  relief.  He  has  never  since  taken 
his  hand  from  the  work  he  began  that  day.  Let  us,  with  our  last 
words,  thank  him  and  his  friends  who  have  met  us  this  evening 
and  cared  for  us  so  well.  And  now,  dear  brothers,  we  shall  be  depart- 
ing. Before  you  take  your  foot  off  your  native  land,  promise  me  here 
that  you  will,  above  all  things,  be  faithful  to  your  God,  and  attend  to 
your  religious  duties,  under  whatever  circumstances  you  may  be  placed 
(sobs,  and  cries  of  "We  will,  we  will ").  Never  neglect  your  night 
and  morning  prayers,  and  never  omit  to  approach  the  Blessed  Euchar- 
ist at  least  at  Christmas  and  Easter.  And,  boys,  don't  forget  poor  old 
Ireland  (intense  emotion,  and  cries  of  "  Never— never,  God  knows  1") 
don't  forget  the  old  people  at  home,  boys.  Sure  they  will  be  count- 
ing the  days  till  a  letter  comes  from  you.  And  they'll  be  praying 
for  you,  and  we  will  all  pray  God  be  with  you." 


Standing  on  the  quay  at  Dublin  I  bade  these  poor  people 
a  last  adieu,  and  prayed  that  God  might  requite  them  under 
happier  skies  for  the  cruel  calamities  that  had  befallen  them 
at  home.  Six  months  later  Mr.  O'Grady  wrote  to  me  a  de- 
tailed account  of  their  progress.  Every  one  of  them  was 
"  doing  well,"  he  said ;  "  a  credit  to  the  old  land." 

In  the  autumn  of  last  year  I  revisited  Donegal.  I  sat 
upon  the  shore  of  that  lonely  lake,  and  looked  down  the 
shadowed  valley.  On  a  jutting  point,  beneath  the  lofty 
slope  of  the  wooded  mountain,  Mr.  Adair  has  built  a  castle. 
It  may  be  that  the  charms  which  Selkirk  could  not  discover 
in  solitude  delight  him  in  "  this  desolate  place."  No  doubt 
"  the  enchanting  beauty  "  which  he  said  first  drew  him  to 
the  spot  is  unimpaired  to  the  view :  Glenveih  is  and  ever 
will  be  beautiful.  But  for  my  part,  as  I  gazed  upon  the 
scene,  my  sense  of  enjoyment  was  mingled  with  memories 
full  of  pain.  My  thoughts  wandered  back  to  that  terrible 
April  morning  on  Gartan  side.  In  fancy  I  heard  rolling 
across  those  hills  the  widow's  wail,  the  women's  parting  cry. 


304  NEW  IRELAND. 

I  thought  of  the  farewell  at  the  graves,  of  the  crowd  upon 
the  fore-deck  of  that  steamer.  Again  I  marked  their  tears, 
their  sobs.  Once  more,  above  the  paddle's  plash  and  the 
seamen's  bustling  shout,  I  thought  I  heard  the  wafted  prayer 
of  "  God  be  with  Glenveih  ! " 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT. 

THE  easy  suppression  of  the  Phoenix  conspiracy  in  1858 
led  to  many  false  conclusions.  Every  one  assumed  that  there 
was  an  end  of  the  affair.  Many  treated  it  with  great  deri- 
sion. The  prisoners  were  now  discharged.  The  attempt  to 
prepare  the  way  for  revolution  by  a  secret  society  had  ap- 
parently failed  and  been  abandoned.  So  fully  were  I  and 
many  others  under  this  impression  that  we  felt  very  wroth 
because  that  at  the  moment  we  were  pleading  with  the 
Crown  authorities  in  behalf  of  the  prisoners,  some  Irishmen 
in  New  York  were  indulging  in  vaunt  and  defiance  calcu- 
lated to  alarm  and  irritate  the  Government.  Had  there 
been  knowledge  or  suspicion  that  the  movement  was  not 
then  relinquished,  no  such  appeals  would  have  been  made, 
and  assuredly  none  would  have  succeeded.  Even  some  of 
the  men  erstwhiles  enrolled  in  the  Phoenix  Society  fully  be- 
lieved the  project  was  irretrievably  exploded.  All,  however, 
were  under  a  great  delusion. 

A  condition  of  things  had  now  and  for  the  first  time 
arisen  which  was  to  exercise  potential  influence  ever  after- 
ward in  Irish  affairs.  Hitherto  the  base  of  operations  in 
rebellious  or  seditious  attempts  had  been  within  the  country 
itself.  The  Government  were  always  able  to  strike  the 
movement  at  its  heart.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  a  base  of 
operations  had  been  established  out  of  Ireland.  Not  soon 
did  people  realize  what  an  enormous  difference  this  made  in 
dealing  with  Irish  disaffection.  While  Dublin  city  was  the 
headquarters  of  the  malcontents,  their  plans,  their  persons, 

305 


306  NEW  IRELAND. 

their  fate  and  fortunes  were  any  day  within  the  grasp  of  the 
Crown.  Not  so  when  America  became  the  base,  and  New- 
York  headquarters.  The  Queen's  writ  did  not  run  in  Man- 
hattan. 

The  failure  of  the  "Phoenix"  attempt  in  Ireland  was, 
therefore  regarded  by  the  American  organizers  as  merely  the 
misfire  of  a  first  cartridge.  They  would  lie  still  for  a  while, 
and  go  to  work  again. 

A  revolutionary  secret  society,  skillfully  handled,  is  certainly 
a  terrible  power.  It  has  enormous  advantages.  It  can  mingle 
in  and  use  all  other  organizations.  It  can  demoralize  opposing 
ranks  by  subtle  devices.  It  can  claim  an  extent  of  dominion 
and  resource  which  no  one  can  test  or  measure,  and  which  no 
one  therefore  can  venture  to  dispute  or  contradict.  The  pub- 
lic man  marked  out  for  its  hostility  can  be  struck  without 
the  power  of  returning  a  blow.  He  ean  feel  that  he  is  being 
assailed,  yet  may  not  see  or  grapple  with  his  adversaries. 

I  was  for  several  years  fated  to  realize  this  fact,  to  expe- 
rience its  truth  and  force  in  my  own  case.  Apart  from  the 
antagonism  which  any  one  conducting  the  Nation — as  the 
organ  of  the  O'Brien  and  Gavan  Duffy  party,  or  Grattan 
Nationalists — was  sure  to  incur  from  the  Separatist  leaders, 
I  early  fell  under  their  special  displeasure.  From  under- 
rating the  influence  of  the  Nation  Mr.  Stephens  passed  to, 
as  I  think,  overrating  it.  He  considered,  or  pretended  to 
consider,  that  it  was  the  remonstrances  of  the  Nation  that 
had  alone  put  down  his  Phoenix  attempt.  He  was  a  man 
who  always  blamed  somebody  else — never  himself — for  any- 
thing that  befel  his  plans.  As  Mr.  O'Connor,  Dr.  Mulcahy, 
Mr.  Devoy,  and  many  other  of  his  colleagues  have  since  very 
bitterly  proclaimed,  absolute  and  implicit  belief  in  him,  in 
his  unerring  sagacity  and  all-conquering  ability,  was  the 
basis  of  the  system  he  propounded.  He  very  cleverly  averted 
reproach  from  himself  as  to  the  fate  of  his  first  endeavor  by 
steadily  inculcating  the  story  that  it  was  Sullivan  and  the 
Nation  that  did  it  all.  From  his  point  of  view  the  resolu- 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  307 

tion  he  thereupon  came  to  was,  at  any  rate,  intelligible.  It 
was  that  in  order  to  succeed  the  next  time,  Sullivan  and  the 
Nation,  and  indeed  the  whole  nuisance  of  constitutional 
politics,  must  be  put  down.  The  Duffy  policy  had  had  its 
fair  trial  from  1850  to  1853  ;  the  constitutional  Nationalists 
ought  now  to  stand  asMe  and  yield  the  field  to  men  who  were 
ready  with  a  bolder  scheme.  In  one  way,  and  one  way  only, 
could  Ireland  be  saved, — by  force  of  arms.  Every  effort, 
word,  or  suggestion  that  distracted  the  people  from  this  one 
object  was  held  to  be  criminal,  a  thing  to  be  crushed  with  the 
strong  hand.  Newspapers,  meetings,  speeches,  public  soci- 
eties, or  organizations  were  declared  to  be  pernicious  in  the 
highest  degree.  In  fine,  every  outlet  of  public  opinion  was 
to  be  stopped,  every  utterance  forbidden  ;  every  energy  was 
to  be  concentrated  upon  the  one  great  purpose  of  conspiracy. 

With  these  sentiments,  principles,  and  purposes,  Mr.  Ste- 
phens set  himself  to  the  task  of  reconstructing  his  shattered 
organization. 

Although  most  of  the  National  leaders  best  known  to  the 
Irish  people — the  chiefs  of  the  "Forty-eight"  movement — 
held  aloof  from  or  censured  this  scheme,  its  authors  were 
fortunate  in  obtaining  for  it  the  co-operation  of  a  few  men 
whose  rare  abilities  and  invincible  courage  and  fidelity  ren- 
dered them  of  priceless  value  in  such  a  movement.  Fore- 
most among  these  must  be  named  Charles  J.  Kickham,  John 
O'Leary,  and  Thomas  Clarke  Luby. 

Charles  Kickham  was  originally  intended  for  the  medical 
profession,  as  indeed  were  Messrs.  O'Leary  and  Luby.  He 
belonged  to  a  family  occupying  a  respectable  position  in  Mul- 
linahone,  county  Tipperary ;  one  greatly  esteemed  and  trusted 
by  the  people  for  miles  around.  From  his  youth  Charles 
was  a  popular  favorite.  In  the  hottest  of  the  conflicts  which 
marked  the  public  course  of  the  Fenian  movement,  he  was 
the  one  man  of  his  party  for  whom  even  the  fiercest  anti- 
Fenian  had  a  kindly  feeling  and  a  friendly  word.  A  lament- 
able accident  blighted  his  prospects  of  success  in  a  professional 


308  NEW  IRELAND. 

career.  He  was  fond  of  sporting.  One  evening,  after  a  day 
on  the  hills  with  dog  and  gun,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
received  a  serious  drenching,  he  sat  before  the  fire  drying  the 
contents  of  his  powder-flask,  that  had  got  damp.  As  he  was 
stirring  or  examining  the  powder,  a  spark  from  the  peat  fire 
exploded  it  in  his  face.  He  lay  long  in  great  suffering,  and 
it  was  thought  he  would  totally  lose  his  sight.  When  he  re- 
covered, his  hearing  was  to  a  great  extent  destroyed,  and  his 
sight  considerably  impaired.*  This  calamity  only  intensified 
the  feelings  of  the  people  for  young  Charles.  He  became 
studious,  took  to  literary  pursuits,  and  contributed  to  a  little 
periodical  called  The  Celt  some  really  exquisite  poetry  of  the 
simple  ballad  class,  as  well  as  some  stories  of  Irish  peasant 
life  exhibiting  considerable  dramatic  power.  Those  who 
knew  his  gentle  amiable  nature,  his  modest  and  retiring 
character,  his  undemonstrative  ways,  marveled  greatly  to 
find  him  in  the  forefront  of  such  an  enterprise  as  the  Fenian 
movement.  It  was,  however,  only  when  it  took  to  jour- 
nalism that  Kickham  was  called  upon  to  assume  a  post  of 
prominence. 

John  O'Leary  was  unquestionably  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  remarkable  men  in  the  conspiracy.  Intellectually  and 
politically  he  was  of  the  type  of  Wolfe  Tone,  Eobert  Emmet, 
and  John  Mitchel.  An  eye-witness  describing  him  in  the 
dock,  when  on  his  trial  in  1865,  says,  "  He  stepped  to  the 
front  with  a  flash  of  fire  in  his  dark  eyes,  and  a  scowl  on  his 
features,  looking  hatred  and  defiance  on  judges,  lawyers, 
jurymen,  and  all  the  rest  of  them.  All  eyes  were  fixed  on 
him  ;  for  he  was  one  of  those  persons  whose  exterior  attracts 
attention  and  indicates  a  character  above  the  common.  He 
was  tall,  slightly  built,  and  of  gentlemanly  deportment. 
Every  feature  of  his  thin  angular  face  gave  token  of  great 

*  The  white  dust  and  glare  of  the  sun  in  the  Portland  convict  quar- 
ries have,  I  regret  to  say,  almost  totally  ruined  his  sight ;  and  when 
last  I  met  him  his  hearing  was  so  far  gone  that  it  was  by  the  manual 
alphabet  he  was  spoken  to,  although  he  replied  by  voice  as  usual. 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  309 

intellectual  energy  and  determination  ;  its  pallid  hue  was 
rendered  almost  death-like  by  contrast  with  his  long  black 
hair  and  flowing  moustache  and  beard.  Easy  it  was  to  see 
that  when  the  Government  placed  John  O'Leary  in  the  dock 
they  had  caged  a  proud  spirit  and  an  able  and  resolute 
enemy."  He  was  born  in  Tipperary  town,  of  a  family  hold- 
ing a  good  position,  and  inherited  on  the  death '  of  his 
parents,  to  his  share,  a  small  property  of  some  three  or  four 
hundred  pounds  a  year.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  Queen's 
University,  having  taken  out  his  medical  degree  in  the 
Queen's  College,  Cork.  He  resided  for  some  time  in  Paris, 
where  his  mind,  his  tastes,  his  manners,  opinions,  and  prin- 
ciples received  impress  and  shape  discernible  in  his  subse- 
quent career.  He  also  visited  America,  and  there  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  the  men  who  were  planning  and  devis- 
ing the  Fenian  movement.  He  was  a  man  of  culture,  and 
of  considerable  literary  abilities.  I  met  him  on  a  few  occa- 
sions at  the  house  of  Dr.  Kevin  Izod  O'Doherty,  whose  wife, 
the  poetess  "Eva,"  was  his  cousin.  He  was  reserved,  sen- 
tentious, almost  cynical ;  keenly  observant,  sharply  critical, 
full  of  restrained  passion. 

Thomas  Clarke  Luby  was  also  a  native  of  Tipperary  ;  but, 
unlike  his  colleagues,  he  was  a  Protestant ;  his  uncle,  the 
Kev.  Dr.  Luby,  being  one  of  the  Senior  Fellows  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  Mr.  Luby  was  no  new  hand  at  seditious 
effort.  Young  as  he  was  in  1848,  he  was  then  an  active 
member  of  what  may  be  called  the  extreme  revolutionist,  or 
Mitchelite,  party.  From  1849  to  1854  he  occupied  himself 
occasionally  as  a  contributor  to  the  press,  and  sometimes  as 
a  collegiate  tutor.  In  1855  he  became  associate  editor  of 
the  Irish  Tribune,  a  semi-revolutionary  journal,  which  the 
late  Mason  Jones  and  other  advanced  Irish  Nationalists  pub- 
lished for  some  short  time  in  Dublin.  His  politics  were  a 
'  great  affliction  to  relatives  who  were  in  a  position  to  advance 
him,  and  who  would  have  done  so  if  he  would  but  give  up 
such  dangerous  doctrines.  He  preferred  to  struggle  on  for 


310  NEW  IRELAND. 

himself,  holding  by  his  principles,  such  as  they  were.     This 
course  he  pursued  unfalteringly  to  the  last. 

On  the  American  side  the  movement  was  projected  under 
the  direction  of  John  O'Mahony,  Michael  Doheny,  and  Col- 
onel Corcoran,  of  the  Sixty-ninth  (Irish)  New  York  regi- 
ment,— the  first-named  being  supreme.  The  original  plan, 
described  already  in  O'Donovan  Kossa's  words,  was  still  pur- 
sued. The  Irish  in  America  were  to  be  enrolled  in  "  circles," 
or  groups,  like  the  Irish  at  home.  But  the  functions  of  the 
former  were  chiefly  to  supply  ''the  home  organization,"  as 
it  was  called,  with  funds,  arms,  and  military  commanders. 
Later  on  the  American  section  decided  furthermore  to  co- 
operate with  the  home  movement  by  an  attack  on  the  British- 
dominions  near  at  hand,  and  by  the  dispatch  of  privateers. 
Each  "circle  "  was  presided  over  by  an  officer  called  a  center. 
Mr.  O'Mahony  was  Head  Center.  He  it  was  who  designated 
his  branch  of  the  organization  by  the  name  of  "Fenians." 
He  was  much  given  to  Gaelic  studies,  and  lived  or  dreamed 
a  great  deal  in  ancient  Ireland.*  The  Irish  national  militia 
seventeen  centuries  ago  were  called  the  "Fiana  Erion,"  or 
Fenians,  from  Fenius,  Fin,  or  Fion,  their  famous  command- 
er. After  this  force  O'Mahony  called  the  Irish- American  en- 
rollment. Mr.  Stephens,  however,  preferred  for  the  home  sec- 
tion the  name  of  "  Irish  Revolutionary  Brotherhood ; "  short- 
ened into  "the  I.  R.  B.,"  by  which  brief  designation  it  was 
generally  referred  to  by  the  members.  In  Ireland  the  enroll- 
ment also  was  in  circles  or  groups  ;  the  officers  being  styled 
A's,  B's,  and  C's,  according  to  their  rank.  Mr.  Stephens 
exercised  supreme  and  absolute  authority  in  the  home  organ- 
ization. His  official  title  was  the  "C.  0.  I.  R.,"  or  Central 
Organizer  of  the  -Irish  Republic.  He  willed  and  declared  a 
republic  to  be  erected  in  Ireland ;  and,  accordingly,  the  oath 
of  initiation  bound  each -member  to  yield  allegiance  to  "  the 

*  He  executed  the  admirable  translation  of  Keatings's  "History  of 
Ireland,"  published  by  Haverty  of  New  York. 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  311 

Irish  republic  now  virtually  established."  *  When  a  person 
authorized  by  him  had  sworn  in  not  more  than  fifty  members 
in  a  locality,  they  were  constituted  a  "circle,"  of  which  such 
person  then  became  the  B  or  Center.  In  due  time  it  would 
be  his  duty,  when  the  C.  0.  I.  R.  sent  him  a  drill-master,  to 
see  that  his  men  were  safely  and  secretly  taught  military  ex- 
ercises. Meanwhile  he  and  his  circle  were  to  act  in  a  gen- 
eral way  for  the  furtherance  of  the  movement, — by  organiz- 
ing new  circles,  by  discouraging  and  repressing  public  meet- 
ings of  a  "distracting"  character,  and  by  putting  down 
public  men  or  journals  who  in  any  way  hindered  or  opposed 
the  organization. 

There  were  in  1858,  on  the  starting  of  this  enterprise, 
several  Irish- American  newspapers  ardently  devoted  to  the 
cause  of  Irish  nationality.  In  New  York  city  alone  there 
were  at  least  two  ;  one  was  the  Irish  News,  established  by 
Thomas  Francis  Meagher ;  the  other  the  Irish  American, 
then,  as  now,  the  leading  organ  of  Irish  Nationalism  in  the 
United  States.  Even  with  these  journals  the  Fenian  leaders 
quarreled  as  strongly  as  with  the  Nation;  so  they  decided 
to  establish  a  special  organ  of  the  movement,  which  accord- 
ingly appeared  as  the  Phoenix  newspaper,  in  New  York. 
In  this  journal  they  struck  out  vigorously,  right,  left,  and 
center,  at  everything  and  everybody  supposed  to  be  inimical 
to  their  undertaking.  They  had  no  need  to  waste  words  in 
rousing  the  ire  of  their  readers  against  England.  The  Irish 
in  America — the  maddened  fugitives  of  the  dreadful  famine 
and  eviction  times — hated  the  British  power  with  quench- 
less hate.  The  obstacles  that  most  concerned  the  secret 
leaders  arose  from  the  opposition  given  to  their  scheme  by 
the  Catholic  clergy  and  the  open-policy  or  -anti-Fenian  Na- 
tionalists. The  Catholic  Church  condemns  oath-bound 

*  Very  evidently  many  of  the  rank  and  file  -were  not  quite  clear  as  to 
what  the  word  "virtually"  meant ;  for  much  merriment  arose  during 
some  of  the  trials  when  the  approvers  declared  they  were  sworn  to 
obey  "the  Irish  republic  now  virtuously  established." 


312  NEW  IRELAND. 

secret  societies, — especially  if  directed  to  the  subversion  of 
the  civil  power  or  the  overthrow  of  religion, — for  several 
reasons.  First,  regarding  the  sanctity  of  an  oath,  it  denies 
that  any  one  who  chooses  can,  for  any  purpose  he  pleases, 
formally  administer  or  impose  that  solemn  obligation. 
Secondly,  having  regard  to  the  safety  of  society,  of  public 
order,  of  morals  and  religion,  it  prohibits  the  erection  of  any 
such  barrier  between  the  objects  and  operations  of  a  society, 
and  authoritative  examination  and  judgment.  Over  this 
critical  and  important  issue  the  Fenian  movement,  on  its 
very  threshold,  was  plunged  into  a  bitter  war  with  the  eccles- 
iastical authorities  of  the  Catholic  Church.  "The  priest 
has  no  right  to  interfere  in  or  dictate  our  politics,"  said  the 
Fenian  leaders  ;  "  ours  is  a  political  movement ;  they  must 
not  question  us  or  impede  us."  "You  cannot  be  admitted 
to  the  sacraments  until  you  give  up  and  repent  of  illicit 
oaths,"  responded  the  Catholic  priests;  "and  if  you  con- 
tumaciously continue  in  membership  of  an  oath-bound  se- 
cret society,  you  are  liable  to  excommunication."  "Do 
you  hear  this  ? — we  are  cursed  by  the  Church  for  loving  our 
country  ! "  exclaimed  the  Fenians  ;  and  so  for  the  first  five 
years,  from  1860  to  1865,  the  struggle  between  the  Catholic 
clergy  and  the  Fenian  organizers  was  fierce,  violent,  and 
unsparing.  A  really  active  "B,"  or  Fenian  center,  had 
need  to  be  a  man  who  cared  little  for  the  priest's  denuncia- 
tions, and  who  could  persuade  the  people  it  was  "the  May- 
nooth  oath  and  the  gold  of  England"  that  made  Father 
Tom  so  ready  to  "curse"  the  cause.  The  priests,  accord- 
ingly, complained  that  the  propagators  of  Fenianism  were 
men  who  paid  little  regard  to  clerical  authority  and  shunned 
the  practices  of  faith.  One  can  see  how  out  of  antagonistic 
views  thus  pressed  the  quarrel  eventuated  in  the  Fenians 
denouncing  the  priests  as  deadly  foes  of  Irish  nationality, 
and  the  priests  denouncing  the  Fenians  as  enemies  of  the 
Church, — men  who  would  overthrow  the  altar  and  destroy 
societv. 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  313 

Very  similar  was  the  conflict  between  the  secret  organiza- 
tion and  the  non-Fenian  or  anti-Fenian  Nationalists  ;  the 
great  object  of  the  Fenian  leaders  being  that  the  people 
should  have  no  alternative  patriotic  effort  between  embrac- 
ing their  enterprise  and  siding  with  imperial  subjugation. 
Indeed,  a  reference  to  the  pages  of  the  Fenian  newspapers, 
and  to  the  public  chronicles  of  the  period,  will  show  that  the 
movement  during  the  four  years  following  1860  was  directed 
less  against  the  English  Government  than  against  those  Irish 
Nationalists,  priests  and  layman,  whose  influence  was  sup- 
posed to  impede  the  organization. 

The  official  organ,  or  gazette,  thus  established  in  New 
York,  waged  war  all  round,  and  roused  up  antagonisms  in- 
numerable. A  weekly  column,  or  department,  was  devoted 
to  a  "Hue  and  Cry,"  giving  descriptions  of  "informers" 
and  other  obnoxious  persons  to  be  looked  after, — a  hint  not 
likely  to  be  neglected  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
Here  is  a  sample  : 

"  ROCK'S  HUE-AND-CRY. 

"THE  BLACK  LIST. 

"CALLAGHAN,  PAT,  Callan,  county  Kilkenny.— Five  feet  six  in 
height ;  stout,  and  squarely  built ;  27  years  of  age  ;  supposed  to  be  in 
New  Zealand. 

"CABOLAX,  BALLYNAHINCH,  county  Down. — Five  feet  seven  in 
height ;  60  years  of  age ;  blue  eyes,  gray  hair,  and  long,  thin  fea- 
tures ;  supposed  to  be  prowling  round  Belfast. 

"WILLIAM  EVERITT  .  .  .  is  about  45  years  of  age,  five  feet  ten 
inches  in  height,  with  a  lank  body,  apparently  possessing  the  flexi- 
bility of  a  bamboo,  and  suggesting  the  idea  that  it  was  with  reluct- 
ance Nature  threw  him  on  the  earth  as  an  incumbrance.  .  .  .  Poor 
wretch  !  Nature,  at  his  birth,  was  niggard  of  her  bounties.  He  may 
depend  on  it,  Rock  has  a  long  memory,  and  that  his  police  are  watch- 
ful of  the  movements  of  the  spy. 

"MICHAEL  BUBKE.— The  fellow  needs  no  further  notice  from 
Rock.  He  is  mad,  and  lodged  in  a  Dr.  Osborne's  asylum.  Number 
One — What  a  grim  moral  follows  the  history  of  his  '  information  1 ' 
14 


314  NEW  IRELAND. 

Had  he  not  sold  himself  for  gold,  he  would  have  been  to-day  in  no 
lunatic  asylum." 

There  were  every  week  official  "Decrees"  and  "General 
Orders  ; "  and  a  secret  committee  with  an  ominous  name,  the 
"Committee  of  Public  Safety,"  was  charged  to  mark  all 
men  who  had  "striven  to  injure  the  organization  by  word 
or  deed."  Much  more  serious  was  the  fact  that,  for  the  first 
time  in  Irish  annals,  assassination  was  publicly  lauded  as  a 
patriotic  duty.  With  horror  we  read  such  articles  as  the 
following : 

"  At  home  there  is  no  bold  voice  raised  from  press  or  pulpit  against 
the  extermination  of  the  people.  There  are  complaints  innumer- 
able,— there  are  remonstrances  and  arguments  to  show  it  is  wrong, 
ruinous,  inexpedient  to  shovel  the  people  from  their  holdings  into  the 
poorhonse  and  ditches :  but  it  is  folly  to  argue  the  question,  more 
especially  when  the  press  designates  as  foul,  atrocious  murder  the 
slaying  of  one  of  those  arch  exterminators  who  is  to  the  district  he 
owns  as  a  wild  beast  at  large.  It  is  only  by  retaliation  and  reprisal 
that  the  Irish  landlord  can  be  brought  to  a  sense  of  justice.  Every- 
thing else  is  unavailing." 

This  language  of  the  official  organ  was  followed  up  by  a 
newspaper  in  California  published  by  a  Mr.  Thomas  Mooney. 
He  weekly  advertised  a  reward  of  one  hundred  pounds  for 
any  one  who  would  murder  a  particular  gentleman  in  the 
county  Mayo,  whom  he  pointed  out  by  name.  About  this 
time  a  man  named  Beckham,  an  infamous  wretch  who  mur- 
dered for  hire,  was  hanged  for  the  assassination  of  a  Mr. 
Fitzgerald  in  the  county  Limerick  under  the  most  brutal 
circumstances.  Mooney,  in  an  article  abusing  the  degenerate 
and  feeble  National  leaders  in  Ireland, — Smith  O'Brien  and 
Sullivan  of  the  Nation  in  particular, — declared  that  "one 
Beckham  was  worth  fifty  Smith  O'Briens."  What  Ireland 
wanted  was  men  who  would  not  shrink  from  Beckham's  work. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  men  in  Ireland  on  whom  subse- 
quently fell  the  penalty  of  membership  in  the  Fenian  or- 
ganization would  be  incapable  of  approving  these  incentives ; 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  315 

but  they  made  no  sign  and  spoke  no  word  in  public  at  the 
time  to  save  the  ancient  and  honorable  cause  of  Irish  na- 
tionality from  identification  with  them.  For  me,  in  view  of 
public  teachings  like  these,  put  forward  in  the  name  of  Irish 
patriotism,  silence  was  impossible.  In  the  Nation  I  gave 
utterance,  no  donbt  very  strongly,  to  the  indignation  which 
I  felt,  and  declared  for  myself,  and  those  whom  I  might  be 
held  to  represent,  that  we  would  rather  see  Ireland  reduced 
to  a  cinder  than  "liberated"  by  men  who  advocated  such 
principles.  The  result,  as  might  be  expected,  was  a  very 
hurricane  of  menace  and  denunciation  hurled  at  my  devoted 
head.  Mr.  Mooney  addressed  to  me,  through  the  pages  of 
his  newspaper,  a  letter  of  three  columns  or  ten  feet  in  length, 
reiterating  very  emphatically  the  doctrines  I  had  reprobated. 
I  quote  a  few  sentences  : 

"  I  am  thoroughly  of  opinion,  sir,  that  words  or  grass  are  not  of  the 
slightest  avail  against  England,  or  against  her  pickets  and  vedettes  in 
Ireland,— that  is  to  say,  the  crow-bar  landlords.  Nothing  but  bullets, 
sir,  will  avail ;  and  therefore  I  recommend  my  countrymen  to  shoot 
the  landlord  house-levelers  as  we  shoot  robbers,  or  rats,  at  night  or 
in  the  day,  on  the  roadside  or  in  the  market-place  ! 

"  That  I  offered  a  reward  of  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  head  of 
Major  Brabazon  is  most  true.  True,  I  declared  that  the  killing  of 
said  Brabazon  was  'patriotic,  noble,  and  righteous.'" 

Then  he  describes  at  full  length  a  case  of  barbarous  evic- 
tion by  Mr.  Brabazon,  and  proceeds  : 

"  Shoot  him  !    Yes. 

"  The  life  of  a  peasant  is  as  valuable  as  the  life  of  a  peer.  If  the 
peer  oppress  the  peasant  by  force  of  arms,  break  into  and  break  down 
his  house,  let  him  be  slain  wheresoever  he  shall  be  caught. 

"  You  have  dubbed  me  a  prophet  of  landlord  assassination:  I  accept 
the  distinction.  Let  them  look  out  !  It  is  the  intention  of  many  a 
valiant  Irishman  to  return  to  Ireland  to  shoot  down  the  inhuman 
scoundrels  whose  acts  we  have  noted  and  whose  names  we  have 
registered. 

"  But  though  you  do  not  approve  my  plan  of  putting  down  the 
Saxon  power,  you  are,  you  say,  ready  for  a  fair  fight.  '  Blood,'  you 


316  NEW  IRELAND. 

say,  'may  yet  perhaps  be  spilled  in  fair  fight.  The  arms  employed 
for  the  winning  of  Irish  freedom  shall  not  be  the  knife  or  the  blun- 
derbuss of  the  assassin,  and  no  stain  of  that  blood  which  cries  to 
heaven  for  vengeance  shall  be  found  upon  our  flag  when  its  full 
breadth  of  green  and  gold  is  flung  open  to  the  wind.' 

"  A  very  pretty  poetic  paragraph,  sir, — but  poetry  only.  A  '  fair 
fight '  with  the  Saxon,  quotha  !  Hast  thou  read  the  history  of  the 
Saxons  ?  These  be  the  men  to  whom  you  beg  of  us  to  offer  '  fair 
fight,' — they  armed  to  the  teeth,  supplied  with  artillery,  shot,  and 
shell,  and  we  elaborately  disarmed  by  the  cowardly  wretches  1  Bah  I 

"  Bah  !  I  say  !    No  longer,  Sullivan,  be  officer  of  mine." 

It  was  not,  however,  the  Phcenix  in  New  York,  nor 
Mooney's  Express  in  San  Francisco,  that  did  the  most  effect- 
ive work  for  the  Fenian  movement  in  Ireland.  That  move- 
ment was  to  a  considerable  extent  established  and  propa- 
gated by  the  unconsciously  rendered  aid  of  the  English 
newspapers,  chiefly  the  Times  and  the  Daily  News.  In 
1859  and  1860  the  Italian  question  was  the  subject  of  the 
hour.  The  English  people,  the  English  press,  plunged  hotly 
into  the  work  of  encouraging  the  subjects  of  Pio  Nono  and 
Francis  Joseph  and  Ferdinand  to  conspire  and  rebel.  So 
eager  were  the  London  journals  to  press  the  Romans  or 
Venetians  or  Sicilians  into  revolt,  that  they  were  blind  to 
the  work  which  their  words,  doctrines,  pleadings,  and  incen- 
tives were,  at  that  very  moment,  doing  in  Ireland.  Every 
weapon  which  Mr.  Stephens  needed  for  the  purposes  of  his 
secret  society  was  deftly  fashioned  for  him  and  put  into  his 
hand  by  the  Daily  News,  the  Sun,  or  the  Times,  by  Lord 
John  Russell  or  Lord  Ellenborough.  Not  merely  were  the 
Romagnols  told  that  every  people  had  a  right  to  choose  their 
OAvn  rulers,  to  depose  the  old  and  set  up  the  new,  but  they 
were  told  that  the  amount  of  provocation  or  justification  for 
such  a  course,  how  often  or  when  they  might  adopt  it,  was 
for  themselves  and  no  one  else  to  pronounce.  Said  the 
Times,— 

"  That  government  should  be  for  the  good  of  the  governed,  and 
that  whenever  rulers  willfully  and  persistently  postpone  the  good  of 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  317 

their  subjects,  either  to  the  interests  of  foreign  states,  or  to  abstract 
theories  of  religion  or  politics,  the  people  have  a  right  to  throw  off 
the  yoke,  are  principles  which  have  been  too  often  admitted  and  acted 
upon  to  be  any  longer  questioned." 

But  who  should  judge  all  this  ?  Here  is  the  reply  supplied 
by  the  great  English  journal : 

"  The  destiny  of  a  nation  ought  to  be  determined,  not  by  the  opin- 
ions of  other  nations,  but  by  the  opinion  of  the  nation  itself.  To  decide 
whether  they  are  well  governed  or  not,  or  rather  whether  the  degree 
of  extortion,  corruption,  and  cruelty  to  which  they  are  subject  is  suffi- 
cient to  justify  armed  resistance,  is  for  those  who  live  under  that 
government, — not  for  those  who,  being  exempt  from  its  oppression, 
feel  a  sentimental  or  theological  interest  in  its  continuance." 

The  Daily  News  was  equally  explicit : 

"  Europe  has  over  and  over  again  affirmed  that  one  principle  on 
which  the  Italian  question  depends,  and  to  which  the  inhabitants  of 
Central  Italy  appeal, — the  right  of  a  people  to  choose  its  own  rulers." 

On  the  same  point  the  Times : 

"  England  has  not  scrupled  to  avow  her  opinion  that  the  people  of 
the  Roman  States,  like  every  other  people,  have  a  right  to  choose  the 
form  of  their  own  government,  and  the  persons  in  whose  hands  that 
government  shall  be  placed." 

The  Sun  declared, — 

"  As  free  Englishmen  we  assert  the  rights  of  the  Romans,  and  of  all 
nations,  to  have  governors  of  their  own  choice." 

The  English  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Lord  John 
Russell,  speaking  at  Aberdeen,  enforced  the  same  doctrine.' 
A  passage  in  the  Queen's  speech  affirmed  it.  Lord  Ellen- 
borough  hoped  the  Pope's  subjects  would  appeal  to  arms  as 
the  only  way  in  which  they  could  assert  their  right : 

"  I  will  hope  that,  stimulated  by  the  insults  to  Italy  which  are  con- 
veyed in  the  demands  France  is  about  to  make  in  the  Congress,  they 


318  NEW  IRELAND. 

will  rise  to  vindicate  their  right  to  choose  their  own  government,  and 
clutch  the  arms  by  which  alone  it  can  be  secured." 

Out  of  these  declarations  arose  in  Ireland  a  movement 
which  the  popular  journals  designated  "  Taking  England  at 
her  word."  The  Nation  proposed  that  a  National  Petition 
in  the  following  form  should  be  presented  to  the  Queen  : 

"  That  petitioners  have  seen  with  deep  concern  the  recognition  of 
the  right  of  every  people  to  change  or  choose  their  rulers  and  form  of 
government,  which  is  contained  in  the  speech  delivered  by  your 
Majesty  at  the  opening  of  the  present  session  of  Parliament,  and  also 
contained  in  the  speech  delivered  on  a  recent  occasion  at  Aberdeen  by 
your  Majesty's  Foreign  Secretary,  as  well  as  in  the  speeches  of  many 
other  statesmen  and  persons  of  high  position  in  England,  and  in  the 
writings  of  the  most  influential  English  newspapers. 

"  That  by  the  general  approval  with  which  those  speeches  and  writ- 
ings have  been  received  in  England,  and  more  especially  by  the  course 
of  policy  pursued  by  your  Majesty's  Government  in  reference  to  the 
late  political  events  in  Central  Italy,  the  Sovereign,  the  Ministry,  the 
Press,  and  People  of  England  have,  in  the  most  distinct  and  public 
manner,  declared  their  approval  of  the  principle  that  every  people  who 
believe  themselves  to  be  ill-governed  have  a  right  to  change  the  sys- 
tem of  government  which  is  displeasing  to  them,  and  to  substitute  for 
it  one  of  their  own  choice  ;  which  choice  may  be  declared  by  a  majority 
of  the  votes  which  shall  be  given  on  submitting  the  question  to  a 
universal  suffrage. 

"  That,  as  is  well  known  to  your  Majesty,  from  petitions  emanating 
from  meetings  at  which  millions  of  your  Majesty's  subjects  attended, 
as  well  as  from  other  events  at  various  times,  which  petitioners  deem 
it  unnecessary  to  specify,  a  very  strong  desire  exists  among  the  Irish 
people  to  obtain,  in  place  of  the  present  system  of  government  in  Ire- 
land, a  restoration  of  their  native  parliament,  and  their  legislative 
independence.  That  petitioners  are  confident  the  overwhelming 
majority  of  the  Irish  people  ardently  desire  this  restoration  of  their 
national  constitution,  of  which  they  believe  they  were  unjustly  de- 
prived ;  yet,  as  your  Majesty's  advisers  may  have  led  you  to  believe 
that  this  desire  for  a  domestic  legislature  is  entertained  by  only  a 
minority  of  the  population,  petitioners  behold  in  the  proceeding  so 
highly  approved  of  by  your  Majesty's  ministers— viz.,  a  popular  vote 
by  ballot  and  universal  suffrage — a  means  by  which  the  real  wishes  of 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  319 

a  majority  of  your  Majesty's  Irish  subjects  may  be  unmistakably  ascer- 
tained. 

"  Your  petitioners,  therefore,  pray  that  your  Majesty  may  be  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  direct  and  authorize  a  public  vote  by  ballot  and  uni- 
versal suffrage  in  Ireland,  to  make  known  the  wishes  of  the  people, 
whether  for  a  native  government  and  legislative  independence,  or  for 
the  existing  system  of  government  by  the  imperial  Parliament.  Peti- 
tioners trust  that  their  request  will  be  considered  stronger,  not  weaker, 
in  your  Majesty's  estimation,  for  being  made  respectfully,  peacefully, 
and  without  violence,  instead  of  being  marked  by  such  proceedings  as 
have  occurred  during  the  recent  political  changes  in  Italy,  which  have 
been  so  largely  approved  by  your  Majesty's  ministers. 

"  And  petitioners,  as  in  duty  bound,  will  ever  pray." 

This  petition  received  the  signatures  of  over  half  a  million 
of  adult  Irishmen.  It  was  duly  presented.  It  was  never 
answered.  Still  the  English  people  went  on  declaring  that 
a  "vote  of  the  population"  was  the  way  to  test  the  legiti- 
macy or  oppressiveness  of  a  government.  Still  the  English 
newspapers  went  on  adjuring  subject  peoples  to  strike  if  they 
would  be  free.  Every  Fenian  organizer  had  these  quota- 
tions on  his  tongue.  The  fate  of  the  National  Petition  was 
pointed  to ;  the  contemptuous  silence  of  the  sovereign  was 
called  disdain  for  a  people  who  would  not  clutch  the  arms 
whereby  alone  their  right  to  choose  their  own  government 
could  be  secured. 

One  article  there  was  in  the  London  Times — a  magnificent 
outburst  of  scathing  taunt  and  passionate  invective — which 
played  a  remarkable  part  in  the  Fenian  operations.  It  was 
the  gospel  of  organizers.  A  glance  at  it  will  show  that  it 
was  just  to  their  hand  : 

"  It  is  quite  time  that  all  the  struggling  nationalities  should  clearly 
understand  that  freemen  have  no  sympathy  with  men  who  do  nothing 
but  howl  and  shriek  in  their  fetters. 

"  Liberty  is  a  serious  game,  to  be  played  out,  as  the  Greek  told  the 
Persian,  with  knives  and  hatchets,  and  not  with  drawled  epigrams  and 
soft  petitions. 

"  We  may  prate  among  us  of  moral  courage  and  moral  force,  but  we 
have  also  physical  courage  and  physical  force  kept  for  ready  use.  Is 


320  NEW  IRELAND. 

this  so  with  the  Italians  of  Central  Italy  ?  That  they  wish  to  be  free  is 
nothing.  A  horse  or  a  sheep  or  a  canary-bird  has  probably  some  vague 
instinct  toward  a  state  of  freedom  ;  but  what  we  ask,  and  what  within 
the  last  few  days  we  have  asked  with  some  doubt,  is,  Are  these  Italians 
prepared  to  fight  for  the  freedom  they  have  ?  If  so,  well ;  they  will 
certainly  secure  it ;  if  not,  let  Austria  flog  them  with  scorpions  instead 
of  whips,  and  we  in  England  shall  only  stop  our  ears  against  their 
screams. 

"  The  highest  spectacle  which  the  world  can  offer  to  a  freeman  is  to 
see  his  brother  man  contending  bravely — nay,  fighting  desperately — for 
his  liberty.  The  lowest  sentiment  of  contempt  which  a  freeman  can 
feel  is  that  excited  by  a  wretched  serf  who  has  been  polished  and  edu- 
cated to  a  full  sense  of  the  degradation  of  his  position,  yet  is  without 
the  manhood  to  do  more  than  utter  piteous  lamentations." 

Despite  these  favoring  circumstances,  the  Fenian  enroll- 
ment made  but  slow  progress  up  to  1861.  Its  conflict  with 
the  Catholic  sentiment  of  the  Irish  population  was  a  draw- 
back which  counterbalanced  any  advantage  derived  from  the 
teachings  of  the  English  newspapers.  In  the  spring  of  that 
year  the  official  organ,  after  a  necessitous  existence,  disap- 
peared ;  and  in  America,  as  in  Ireland,  the  fortunes  of  the 
movement  were  at  a  low  ebb.  In  April  the  American  civil 
war  burst  forth.  The  people,  North  and  South,  sprang  to 
arms.  The  Irish  were  foremost  in  "going  with  their  States. " 
An  Irish  brigade  fought  on  each  side.  One  led  by  General 
Pat  Cleburne  distinguished  itself  under  the  Confederate  flag. 
One  commanded  by  General  T.  F.  Meagher  won  laurels  that 
will  not  fade  beneath  the  starry  banner  of  the  Union.  In 
this  rush  to  the  field  the  Fenian  circles  were  broken  up  and 
abandoned  on  all  hands.  For  a  moment,  but  only  for  a 
moment,  it  appeared  as  if  the  American  war  would  extin- 
guish the  movement.  A  new  and  a  stronger  impulse  soon 
came  to  press  it  on.  The  readiness  with  which  England 
conceded  belligerent  rights  to  the  seceding  States,  and  other 
circumstances,  early  gave  rise  to  the  idea  that  a  rupture 
between  the  Washington  Government  and  the  Court  of  St. 
James's  was  inevitable.  This  impression  was  sedulously  en- 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  321 

couraged  in  the  Northern  States  and  in  Ireland  as  an  incentive 
to  the  Irish  to  join  the  Federal  regiments.  It  had  a  powerful 
effect  in  each  country.  All  the  way  from  Ireland  a  continuous 
stream  of  young,  active,  and  able-bodied  men  poured  into 
the  Federal  ranks.  The  story  was  almost  universally  believed 
that  Mr.  Seward  had  as  good  as  promised  certain  of  the 
Irish  leaders  that  when  the  Union  was  restored  America 
would  settle  accounts  with  John  Bull,  and  that  Ireland 
would  be  gratefully  repaid  for  her  aid  to  the  Stars  and 
Stripes.  This  was  the  crowning  stroke  of  good  fortune  for 
the  Fenian  leaders. 

Another  circumstance,  equally  advantageous,  meantime 
came  to  their  aid.  Terence  Bellew  McManus,  one  of  the 
"Forty-eight"  leaders,  had  in  1851  effected  a  bold  and  daring 
escape  from  his  captivity  in  Van  Diemen's  Land,  and  soon 
after  settled  in  San  Francisco.  Early  in  1861  he  died  in  that 
city,  to  the  deep  sorrow  of  all  his  countrymen,  by  whom  he 
was  greatly  loved.  Some  one  suggested  that  the  body  of  the 
dead  rebel  should  be  disinterred  from  its  grave  in  foreign 
soil  and  be  borne  with  public  ceremonial  across  continent 
and  ocean  to  the  land  of  his  birth.  The  proposition  was 
enthusiastically  embraced.  The  incident  was  so  dramatic, 
and  touched  such  deep  emotions,  that  the  proceeding  as- 
sumed a  magnitude  and  a  solemnity  which  astonished  and 
startled  every  one.  The  Irish  race  in  America  seemed  to 
make  of  the  funeral  a  demonstration  of  devotion  to  the  old 
land.  The  Irish  at  home  were  seized  with  like  feelings,  and 
on  all  sides  prepared  to  give  a  suitable  reception  to  the  re- 
mains of  him  who,  proscribed  in  life,  might  return  only  in 
death  to  the  land  he  loved.  It  was  a  proceeding  which 
appealed  powerfully  to  the  sympathies  of  the  people  ;  and 
Nationalists  of  all  hues  and  sections  mingled  in  the  homage 
to  patriotism  which  it  was  understood  to  convey. 

It  was  only  when  the  "funeral"  preparations  had  been 
somewhat  advanced,  a  whisper  went  round  that  the  affair 
was  altogether  in  the  hands  of  the  Fenian  leaders,  and  was 


322  NEW  IRELAND. 

being  used  to  advance  their  projects.  This  put  non-Fenian 
Nationalists  in  a  difficulty  which  their  opponents  heartily 
enjoyed.  To  draw  back  and  hold  aloof  was  a  course  which, 
could  be  explained  only  by  making  assertions  of  the  most 
serious  and  perilous  nature,  proof  of  which  few  men  would 
care  to  adduce.  To  go  on  was  to  swell  the  tide  that  might 
perhaps  sweep  Ireland  into  a  civil  war.  Indeed,  at  one  time 
the  purpose  was  seriously  entertained  of  making  the  Mac- 
Manus  demonstration  the  signal  for  insurrection.  The  idea 
was  vehemently  and  successfully  combated  by  Mr.  Stephens, 
on  .the  ground  that  his  preparations  had  been  only  begun ; 
and  he  would  not  strike  till  he  was  ready.  It  required  the 
utmost  exertion  of  his  authority  to  enforce  this  veto ;  and  it 
was  only  after  hot  controversy  the  contemplated  rising  on 
that  occasion  was  given  up.  The  funeral,  along  the  whole 
route  from  San  Francisco  to  Dublin,  was  one  of  the  most 
impressive  demonstrations  of  the  kind  ever  seen.  Every 
considerable  city  in  the  States  sent  a  delegation  to  attend  it. 
On  the  30th  of  October,  1867,  the  body  arrived  at  Queens- 
town,  and  in  the  interval  between  that  date  and  the  inter- 
ment in  Glasnevin  cemetery,  Dublin,  on  Sunday  the  10th  of 
November,  the  island  was  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and  excite- 
ment. The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Cullen,  Catholic  Archbishop  of 
Dublin,  aware  of  what  underlay  the  proceedings,  refused  to 
permit  any  lying  in  state  or  other  public  ceremonial  in  the 
churches  of  his  diocese, — a  decision  which  drew  down  upon 
him  the  wildest  denunciations.  With  great  cleverness  the 
revolutionary  leaders  called  any  opposition  to  their  arrange- 
ments "enmity  to  the  dead,"  " hostility  to  love  of  country." 
Five  years  afterward,  when  the  Fenian  chiefs  themselves 
avowed  that  the  funeral  was  the  expedient  whereby  they 
really  established  their  movement  in  Ireland,  the  conduct  of 
the  archbishop  was  better  understood  by  many  who  were 
among  the  loudest  in  censuring  him  at  the  time.  Some  of 
the  Fenian  authorities  have  estimated  that  a  larger  number 
of  adherents  were  sworn  in  during  the  three  weeks  of  the 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  323 

MacManus  obsequies  than  during  the  previous  two  years. 
The  funeral  procession  through  the  streets  of  Dublin  was  a 
great  display.  Fifty  thousand  men  marched  after  the 
hearse.  At  least  as  many  more  lined  the  streets  and  sympa- 
thizingly  looked  on. 

That  day  gave  the  Fenian  chiefs  a  command  of  Ireland 
which  they  had  never  been  able  to  obtain  before.  In  the 
continuous  struggle  which  went  on  between  them  on  the 
one  hand  and  the  Catholic  clergy  and  non-Fenian  National- 
ists on  the  other,  they  thenceforth  assumed  a  boldness  of 
language  and  action  never  previously  attempted.  The 
American  delegates  who  had  accompanied  the  remains  of 
MacManus  to  Ireland  returned  with  news  that  the  home  or- 
ganization was  of  real  extent  and  strength,  and  needed  only 
the  aid  which  America  could  supply,  namely,  money  and 
arms  and  officers,  to  effect  at  almost  any  moment  the  total 
overthrow  of  British  power  in  Ireland.  Upon  these  reports 
the  movement  in  America  very  shortly  assumed  an  entirely 
new  character,  and  eventually  grew  to  enormous  dimensions. 
Men  who  had  hitherto  held  aloof — men  of  position,  char- 
acter, and  ability— entered  earnestly  into  the  work  of  prepar- 
ation. Money  was  poured  into  the  coffers  of  the  organiza- 
tion. The  conviction  spread  that  the  hour  was  at  hand 
when  Ireland  would  "burst  long  ages'  thrall;  "and  even 
the  poorest  of  her  sons  and  daughters  pressed  eagerly  for- 
ward with  their  contributions.  There  was  no  longer  any 
doubt  that  an  insurrection  in  Ireland  which  could  maintain 
itself  in  anything  like  respectable  force  for  even  a  month 
would  command  millions  of  dollars  and  thousands  of  help- 
ing hands  from  the  Irish  in  America.  This  was  abundantly 
exemplified  by  the  manner  in  which  the  news  of  the  Irish 
Fenian  arrests  later  on  (in  1865)  was  received  by  them. 
The  Fenian  officers  were  besieged  with  sympathizers. 
Fathers  and  mothers  brought  their  sons  to  be  enrolled  ;  ser- 
vant-girls brought  savings  of  their  wages  ;  Californian  miners 
gave  freely  of  their  hoards.  Old  men  who  had  seen  the 


324  NEW  IRELAND, 

roof-tree  leveled  at  home,  young  men  who  had  heard  the 
story  of  the  eviction  from  parents  now  no  more,  clamorously 
asked  to  be  put  "first  on  the  roll  "  for  call  to  action.  The 
famine-clearances  had  sown  "  dragons'  teeth "  from  the 
Hudson  to  the  Mississippi. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A  TROUBLED   TIME. 

THE  men  who  led,  or  most  largely  influenced,  Irish  na- 
tional politics  from  1860  to  1865,  were  William  Smith 
O'Brien,  John  Martin,  and  The  O'Donoghue.  The  first- 
named  did  not,  indeed,  take  any  very  active  part  by  personal 
presence  in  public  affairs  ;  but  he  was  recognized  and  re- 
ferred to  as  the  chief  of  the  National  party.  His  counsel 
was  always  sought ;  and  through  public  letters  issued  from 
time  to  time  in  the  Nation,  he  exercised  a  considerable  in- 
fluence on  passing  events.  Mr.  Martin  had  returned  to  Ire- 
land in  1858.  For  a  year  or  two  he  lived  in  great  retirement 
at  Kilbroney,  near  Rostrevor,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
spots  in  his  native  Ulster ;  but  he  could  not  long  resist  the 
pressure  brought  to  bear  on  him  to  give  his  voice  and  in- 
fluence once  more  to  the  service  of  the  National  cause.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  early  in  1864,  when,  in  conjunction 
with  The  O'Donoghue,  he  established  a  Repeal  society, 
called  the  National  League,  that  he  may  be  said  to  have 
resumed  active  public  life. 

Two  men  of  equal  prominence,  and  in  many  respects  of 
greater  ability,  re-entered  the  arena  later  on, — John  B.  Dil- 
lon and  George  Henry  Moore.  The  latter,  on  the  death  of 
Lucas  and  the  departure  of  Gavan  Duffy,  in  1855,  took  the 
command  of  the  shattered  ranks  of  the  Tenant  League 
party  ;  and  assuredly 

"si  Pergama  dextra 
Defend!  possent,  etiam  hue  def ensa  f uissent ; " 

— if  genius,  courage,  and  devotion  could  have  repaired  what 

325 


326  NEW  IRELAND. 

perfidy  had  destroyed,  that  gifted  son  of  Mayo  had  retrieved 
all.  He  was  unseated  on  his  re-election  in  1857, — being 
held  to  account  for  alleged  spiritual  "  intimidation," — and, 
refusing  several  offers  of  other  constituencies,  watched  si- 
lently and  sadly  the  course  of  public  affairs  up  to  1868. 

The  leading  figure  on  Irish  platforms  from  1858  to  1868 
was  The  O'Donoghue,  then  member  of  Parliament  for  Tip- 
perary  County.  Throughout  the  greater  part  of  those  ten 
years  he  was  the  most  popular  man  in  Ireland.  Many  con- 
siderations combined  to  give  him  the  position  to  which  he 
thus  attained.  His  ancient  family,  his  kinship  with  O'Con- 
nell,  his  splendid  physique,  his  easy  manners,  his  generous 
nature,  his  eloquence,  his  patriotism, — all  marked  him  out 
as  a  popular  favorite.  His  title  of  Celtic  chieftainship  had 
come  down  to  him  through  a  proud  ancestry  of  at  least  four 
hundred  years.  He  was  young,  dashing,  courageous,  ready 
to  do  and  dare  for  Ireland.  His  first  appearance  in  public 
life  was  as  candidate  for  Tipperary,  under  the  auspices  of 
George  Henry  Moore,  in  1857, — on  the  expulsion  of  Mr. 
James  Sadleir.*  The  young  chieftain  carried  all  before 
him,  and  went  at  a  bound  into  the  forefront  of  national 
politics.  He  and  I  were  naturally  thrown  much  together. 
Throughout  the  whole  of  that  period  we  fought  side  by  side. 
On  almost  every  public  question  our  opinions  were  identical. 
We  took  very  nearly  the  same  view  of  the  Fenian  project, 
and  alike  incurred  the  animosity  of  its  leaders, — he,  how- 
ever, much  less  than  I  did.  Once  or  twice  in  the  course  of 
the  war  between  the  Fenian  and  non-Fenian  Nationalists  I 
trembled  for  him.  I  knew  the  secret  chiefs,  with  one  excep- 
tion, were  most  anxious  to  get  hold  of  him,  and  that  tempt- 
ing offers  had  been  made  to  him.  I  have  reason  to  think 
Mr.  Stephens  did  not  greatly  care  to  convert  The  O'Don- 

*  Shortly  after  the  suicide  of  John  Sadleir  (the  banker  and  Brigade 
leader),  it  was  discovered  that  his  brother  James  was  criminally  im- 
plicated in  frauds  on  the  Tipperary  Bank.  He  fled  the  country,  and 
was  expelled  Parliament  by  a  special  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons. 


A   TROUBLED  TIME.  327 

oghue.  He  disliked  so  dangerous  a  rival  near  his  throne. 
Fortunately,  though  the  young  chieftain  hurled  strong  hate 
against  the  English  power,  nothing  could  dispel  his  objec- 
tions to  a  scheme  which  he,  on  the  whole,  agreed  with  me  in 
believing  might  bathe  Ireland  in  blood, — might  display,  in- 
deed, the  self-sacrifice  and  heroism  of  her  sons,  but  could 
only  rivet  her  chains  and  multiply  her  sufferings. 

In  the  summer  of  1863  Mr.  Stephens  decided  upon  start- 
ing a  weekly  journal  in  Dublin  which  should  at  once  advo- 
cate the  special  views  of  the  Fenian  organization  and  in- 
crease its  financial  revenues.  In  November  of  that  year  he 
carried  out  this  purpose  by  starting  the  Irish  People  news- 
paper. It  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  there 
were  two  serious  dangers  in  this  singular  proceeding.  It 
was  almost  certain  to  concentrate  under  the  eye  and  the  hand 
of  the  Government  all  that  was  active  and  dangerous  in  his 
organization  ;  and  as  to  finances,  the  chances  of  loss  rather 
than  gain  were  considerable.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  both  those 
dangers  befell  the  enterprise.  Although  behind  the  Irish 
People  were  an  army  of  active  and  zealous  organizers  and 
agents,  and  though  all  the  resources  of  the  organization 
were  exerted  to  push  it,  that  journal  was  a  heavy  drag  on 
his  resources,  not  an  aid  to  them.  Its  existence  enabled  us 
in  the  Nation  office — as,  no  doubt,  it  enabled  the  Govern- 
ment also — to  ascertain  substantially  where  Fenian  and  non- 
Fenian  Nationalism  prevailed.  It  swept  all  before  it  among 
the  Irish  in  England  and  Scotland,  almost  annihilating  the 
circulation  of  the  Nation  in  many  places  north  and  south  of 
the  Tweed.  On  the  other  hand,  in  Ireland  it  was  never 
able  to  approach  our  journals  in  circulation  ;  and  in  many 
places  we  drove  it  totally  from  the  field.  With  what  seems 
utter  fatuity,  Mr.  Stephens  placed  upon  the  staff  of  his 
journal,  published  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Dublin  Castle 
gate,  the  foremost  men  of  the  Fenian  organization.  John 
O'Leary,  Charles  J.  Kickham,  and  T.  C.  Luby  were  the 
editors  ;  O'Donovan  Rossa  was  appointed  business  manager  ; 


328  NEW  IRELAND. 

James  O'Connor  was  cashier.  The  office  was,  in  fact,  head- 
quarters. 

The  establishment  of  the  National  League  by  Mr.  Martin 
and  The  O'Donoghue,  as  an  open  and  non-Fenian  National 
organization,  appealing  to  public  opinion,  gave  great  olfense 
to  the  Fenian  leader.  Fenians  attended  at  its  meetings  and 
sought  to  disturb  or  compromise  the  proceedings  by  cries  for 
"a  war  policy,"  "rifles  are  what  we  want,"  and  so  on.  It 
was  naturally  expected  that,  steadily  assailed  in  this  way,  the 
League  must  give  up.  But  John  Martin  intimated  that  he 
knew  these  tactics  and  those  who  were  practicing  them.  He 
told  the  Fenians  to  go  their  road,  he  would  go  his,  and  would 
not  be  hindered  by  them.  With  much  struggle  he  held  his 
ground  through  all  the  troubles  and  terrors  of  1865,  and  a 
good  part  of  the  following  year.  In  August,  1866,  the  then 
leaders  of  the  Fenian  operations,  failing  in  putting  down  the 
League  meetings  by  interruptions,  groans,  and  cries,  gave  the 
word  for  more  violent  measures.  A  body  of  Fenians  one 
evening  poured  into  the  League  Hall,  and,  on  being  rebuked 
by  Mr.  Martin  for  their  conduct,  assailed  him  with  volleys 
of  eggs  and  other  missiles,  dispersing  the  assemblage  in  great 
disorder.  A  still  more  violent,  though  not  nearly  so  dis- 
graceful, exploit  had  two  years  previously  marked  the  cul- 
mination of  their  hostility  toward  myself. 

In  February,  1864,  the  committee  of  the  Dublin 'Prince 
Albert  Statue  applied  to  the  corporation  for  an  allocation  of 
College  Green  as  a  site  for  their  memorial.  It  was  well 
known  that  College  Green  had  long,  by  a  sort  of  national 
tradition,  been  marked  out  and  reserved  as  the  spot  whereon 
a  statue  to  Henry  Grattan  should  stand, — as  stand  it  does 
there  now.  A  determined,  but  for  the  time  an  ineffectual, 
opposition  was  offered  in  the  corporation  to  this  "alienation 
of  Grattan's  site,"  as  it  was  called.  In  this  resistance  I  took  a 
leading  part,  having  been  elected  a  member  of  the  municipal 
council  two  years  previously.  We  pleaded,  argued,  pro- 
tested, threatened.  We  offered  any  other  spot  in  all  the  city 


A  TROUBLED  TIME.  329 

but  this  for  the  prince's  statue.  A  majority  of  the  council 
considered  it  would  be  "  disloyal "  to  refuse  any  site  asked  for 
in  the  name  of  Prince  Albert,  and,  Grattan's  claims  not- 
withstanding, granted  the  application.  A  cry  of  indignation, 
arose  all  over  Ireland.  A  public  meeting  was  convened  in 
the  great  hall  of  the  Eotunda,  Dublin,  to  give  voice  to  the 
general  feeling,  and  to  call  for  the  rescinding  of  the  obnox- 
ious vote.  For  two  reasons  the  "C.  0. 1.  K."  decided  to 
break  up  this  demonstration.  First,  Henry  Grattan  was  the 
representative  man  and  founder,  so  to  speak,  of  the  constitu- 
tional National  party, — a  public  character  not  to  be  held  up 
to  admiration  by  a  people  arming  to  establish  an  Irish  re- 
public. Secondly,  at  this  meeting  A.  M.  Sullivan  and  men 
of  that  stamp  would  be  applauded,  which  was  not  to  be 
allowed.  Secret  orders  were  issued  to  all  circles  and  sub- 
circles  in  Dublin  to  have  their  men  in  full  force  at  the 
Rotunda  on  the  evening  of  the  meeting. 

The  O'Donoghue  came  up  from  Killarney  to  preside ;  the 
platform  was  thronged  with  civic  representatives  and  city 
men  ;  the  galleries  and  body  of  the  hall  were  densely  packed. 
The  O'Donoghue  was  proceeding  with  his  opening  address, 
and  came  to  some  complimentary  allusions  to  me. 

"  We  won't  have  Sullivan  !"  fiercely  shouted  a  voice  in  a 
particular  corner  of  the  hall. 

"  That  voice  does  not  express  the  sentiments  of  the  Irish 
people,"  replied  the  chairman. 

Yells  drowned  his  further  observations.  "Down  with 
Sullivan  ! "  "Away  with  Sullivan  ! "  rose  in  frantic  shouts 
from  compact  sections  of  the  audience  immediately  in  front 
of  the  platform.  The  bulk  of  the  assemblage  looked  on 
utterly  bewildered.  They  could  scarcely  credit  their  senses, 
and  vainly  guessed  at  explanations. 

"  Down  with  Sullivan  !  We'll  have  his  life  ! "  Suddenly, 
at  a  preconcerted  signal,  a  rush  was  made  for  the  platform  ; 
sticks  appeared  as  if  pulled  from  beneath  men's  waistcoats, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  a  confused  struggle  was  going  on. 


330  NEW  IRELAND. 

O'Donovan  Eossa  and  other  of  the  Fenian  organizers  now 
showed  themselves,  and,  heading  a  charge  of  their  followers, 
scrambled  over  the  barriers,  striking  at  all  who  obstructed 
them.  If  the  people  could  only  have  got  a  clue  to  the  in- 
comprehensible scene,  there  would  have  been  serious  work, 
for  the  attack  would  have  been  resisted ;  but,  as  few  clearly 
understood  the  proceeding,  no  one  felt  called  upon  to  make 
any  special  exertion.  As  an  indignant  artisan  afterward 
complained,  "No  one  knew  who  was  who,  or  why  was  why." 

In  the  wild  uproar,  the  crash  of  chairs,  and  rash  of  shriek- 
ing people,  I  found  myself  roughly  grasped  by  an  unknown 
hand  in  the  crowd,  and  a  voice  shouted  in  my  ear,  "You 
come  on  out  of  this,  instantly,  or  your  life  will  be  taken 
here  to-night."  I  was  forcibly  dragged  a  long  way  toward 
the  entrance.  Though  kindly  meant,  I  could  not  bring  my- 
self to  acquiesce  in  this.  I  tore  myself  clear  of  my  unknoAvn 
protector,  determined,  whatever  might  befall,  that  I  would 
walk  freely  out  of  the  building.  I  found  The  O'Donoghue 
anxiously  looking  for  me  ;  and  we  emerged  together  into 
the  street.  A  friendly  body-guard,  however,  accompanied 
us  to  the  hotel,  composed  in  great  part,  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve, of  Fenians  who  knew  of  the  violence  designed  against 
us,  and  who  were  determined  to  prevent  it. 

Meanwhile  Eossa  and  his  storm  ing-party  had  full  posses- 
sion of  the  platform.  They  smashed  the  chairs  and  the  re- 
porters' table,  tore  the  gas-brackets  down,  waved  the  green 
baize  cover  of  the  table  as  a  flag  of  victory,  and  shouted  for 
half  an  hour  over  their  success.  Then  they  marched  down 
Sackville  Street  and  dispersed, — some  to  Mr.  Stephens's 
lodgings  to  felicitate  him,  as  proudly  as  if  they  had  captured 
Dublin  Castle,  pulled  down  the  Union  Jack,  and  taken  the 
Lord-Lieutenant  prisoner. 

Next  day  the  explanation  of  the  scene  became  known,  and 
there  was  great  anger  at  this  attempt  of  the  Fenian  author- 
ities to  suppress  the  right  of  public  meeting.  It  was  the 
flinging  down  of  a  daring  challenge  to  the  non-Fenian  Na- 


A  TROUBLED  TIME.  331 

tionalists.  If  this  stroke  succeeded,  there  was  no  platform 
left  to  them.  A  "  Citizens'  Committee  "  assembled,  and  it 
was  resolved  to  hold  on  the  following  Monday  a  meeting  in 
the  same  hall  of  the  Rotunda,  to  pass  the  resolutions  origin- 
ally contemplated, — precautions  ueing  taken  to  encounter 
the  Fenian  tactics,  and,  if  necessary,  meet  force  by  force. 

But  how  was  this  to  be  done  ?  How  was  it  feasible  to 
assemble  a  thousand,  or  two  thousand,  people  and  not  know 
but  they  were  secretly  members  of  the  Fenian  organization  ? 
How  could  we  tell  but  even  on  the  Citizens'  Committee  there 
were  men  whose  part  it  was  to  pretend  sympathy  with  us, 
but  in  reality  to  undermine  all  our  plans  and  arrangements  ? 
"  It  cannot  possibly  be  done,"  said  some  of  our  wisest  friends. 
Moreover,  the  city  was  filled  with  the  most  alarming  stories 
and  rumors  :  the  Fenian  leaders  had  ordered  a  thousand  of 
their  men  to  come  to  the  next  meeting  armed  with  revolvers ; 
Mr.  Stephens  had  sworn  that,  whatever  it  might  cost,  he 
would  render  meeting,  speech,  or  resolution  absolutely  im- 
possible that  day  :  no,  not  even  a  dozen  men  should  be  able 
to  assemble  !  Affrighted  friends  came  to  us  and  implored 
that  the  meeting  might  be  given  up.  "  These  are  desperate 
men ;  it  will  not  do  to  cross  them.  There  will  be  bloodshed 
and  loss  of  life.  Better  give  up  ! "  I,  on  the  other  hand, 
called  on  all  friends  of  public  liberty  to  be  firm  and  to  face 
every  peril.  "We  complain  of  English  tyranny,"  I  said, 
"and  our  fathers  have  given  their  lives  resisting  it.  Here 
is  a  much  more  odious  tyranny.  I  am  the  one  most  loudly 
threatened.  I  know  it.  I  am  determined  to  go  on,  and  if 
any  harm  befall  me,  I  shall  at  all  events  be  struck  down  in 
defense  of  public  freedom."  I  was  rejoiced  to  find  this  spirit 
prevailing  extensively.  The  intolerance  and  violent  despot- 
ism of  the  Fenian  mandate  against  public  meetings  rendered 
the  secret  chiefs  quite  unpopular  ;  and  at  any  fairly-assem- 
bled public  gathering  representative  of  general  opinion  they 
would  have  been  indignantly  condemned. 

It  was  resolved  to  hold  the  meeting  in  the  early  afternoon 


332  XTEW  IRELAND. 

(as  night  would  give  great  advantage  to  disorder  or  attack), 
and  that  admission  should  be  by  tickets  consecutively  num- 
bered. I  felt  it  was  a  trial  of  strength  and  skill  between 
Mr.  Stephens  and  myself,  and  I  determined  he  should  find 
me  able  to  hold  my  own.  "Foolish  man  !"  exclaimed  an 
excited  friend,  a  day  or  two  before  the  meeting,  "you  were 
warned  how  vain  and  hopeless  it  would  be  contending  with  a 
secret  society  !  Here  they  are  secretly  at  work  printing  off 
for  their  men  tickets  identical  with  your  own  ;  and  on  the  day 
of  meeting  it  is  with  foes,  not  friends,  your  hall  will  be  filled  !" 

I  pretended  to  be  dumbfounded.  But  this  was  just  what 
I  expected.  I  had  laid  a  trap  for  the  Fenian  chief,  and  he 
walked  right  into  it. 

A  register  was  duly  kept  of  every  person  to  whom  packets 
of  cards  had  been  issued  for  distribution  ;  and  each  distrib- 
uter was  made  responsible  for  personal  knowledge  of  the 
name  and  address  of  every  citizen  to  whom  he  gave  a  ticket. 
Each  member  of  the  Citizens'  Committee,  about  forty  gentle- 
men in  all,  received,  on  these  conditions,  four  or  five  packets 
of  tickets.  I  guessed  that  on  our  committee  were  agents  of 
the  enemy,  and  that  not  only  would  our  every  move  be  re- 
ported, but  that  our  tickets  would  be  forged.  I  knew  a 
friend,  a  lithographer,  whom  I  could  implicitly  trust,  and 
unknown  to  everybody  I  employed  him  to  print,  by  a  tedious 
process,  that  could  not  be  readily  imitated,  two  thousand 
tickets.  When  I  had  everything  ready,  the  day  before  our 
meeting  I  assembled  the  Citizens'  Committee.  "  Gentlemen, 
our  tickets  are  being  forged,"  I  exclaimed.  "Yes,  yes  ;  'tis 
a  fact,"  shouted  many  voices.  "What  a  shame  !  What  are 
we  to  do  ?  "  said  some  of  Mr.  Stephens's  secret  agents,  in 
well-feigned  surprise  :  "  we  can't  hold  the  meeting  ;  we  must 
give  it  up." 

"No,  gentlemen,  we  will  not  give  it  up,"  I  said.  " Each 
one  of  us,  if  he  has  acted  faithfully  and  loyally,  knows  to 
whom  he  has  given  tickets." 

"Quite  right;  to  be  sure." 


A  TROUBLED  TIME.  333 

"  Very  well.  All  such  tickets  are  now  canceled,  and  will 
be  refused  at  the  doors  to-morrow.  Here  are  tickets  which 
each  of  you  will  this  evening  exchange  with  the  parties 
rightly  entitled  to  them." 

A  roar  of  delight  broke  from  the  meeting.  Two  or  three 
of  our  frieDds  certainly  looked  chop-fallen,  despite  efforts  to 
seem  as  cheerful  as  the  rest. 

Whether  merely  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  frighten  me, 
or  with  serious  meaning,  'tis  hard  to  tell ;  but  private  mes- 
sages were  now  sent  to  my  family  warning  them  in  the  most 
solemn  and  explicit  manner  that  this  daring  conduct  on  my 
part  was  going  to  have  a  sad  result.  They  were  told  I  was 
to  be  shot,  pour  encourager  aux  autres.  I  said,  "Even  so  : 
I  had  rather  be  shot  than  be  a  coward  or  a  slave." 

Next  day  the  city  was  troubled,  nervous,  and  excited,  as  if 
an  earthquake  had  been  foretold  in  the  almanacs.  The  Eo- 
tunda  presented  a  strange  sight.  It  was  like  a  fortress,  for 
possession  of  which  a  fierce  battle  was  to  rage.  That  my  life 
would  pay  the  forfeit  was  concluded  on  all  hands  ;  and  even 
from  distant  parts  of  Ireland  anxious  friends  came,  armed, 
to  stand  by  my  side.  One  of  these,  the  impersonation  of 
devoted  friendship,  Mr.  Thomas  P.  O'Connor,  of  Tipperary, 
was  a  man  to  whom  the  Fenian  leaders  owed  much.  To  his 
influence,  his  exertions,  his  generosity,  they  subsequently 
owed  still  more,  when,  in  adversity,  they  needed  protection 
and  aid.  Though  happily  he  lives  still,  an  the  night  pre- 
ceding that  meeting  he  and  many  others  approached  the 
sacraments  of  religion  in  preparation  for  death  next  day.  It 
seems  almost  absurd  now  to  think  they  regarded  matters  so 
seriously.  My  own  family  took  leave  of  me  as  if  they  might 
see  me  no  more,  but  they  could  not  shake  my  purpose. 

A  body  of  "National  Volunteers"  had  offered  themselves 
to  act  as  guards  and  stewards  at  the  meeting,  and  after  care- 
ful selection  two  hundred  were  enrolled.  At  each  door  a 
"  company  "  was  placed  under  a  trusted  "  captain."  When, 
at  one  o'clock,  the  doors  were  opened,  there  poured  into  the 


334  NEW  IRELAND. 

great  hall,  amidst  much  cheering,  a  body  of  citizens  who 
evidently  greatly  regretted  any  conflict  with  their  fellow- 
countrymen,  but  who  were  determined  to  assert  the  right  to 
assemble  in  public  meeting  for  lawful  and  patriotic  purposes. 
Soon  a  cry  of  "forged  ticket"  was  heard  at  the  doors. 
The  wrong  men  were  beginning  to  come  up,  and  found  they 
could  not  pass  through.  About  two  o'clock  quite  a  bat- 
talion arrived,  headed  by  O'Donovan  Eossa.  He  handed  a 
wrong  ticket.  "No  use,"  said  young  Joseph  Hanly  of 
Ardavon,  a  model  of  athletic  strength  and  vigor,  who  was 
captain  at  that  door.  "I  must  pass,"  said  Eossa,  who  was 
also  strongly  built,  powerful,  active,  and  determined.  "You 
will  not,"  was  defiantly  answered.  Eossa  made  a  dash  at 
the  door,  and  was  leveled  by  a  sledge-hammer  blow  from 
Hanly.  Quick  as  lightning  he  was  on  his  feet,  and  repaid 
the  compliment.  The  two  men  were  on  the  whole  pretty 
evenly  matched ;  but  the  advantage  in  "  science  "  was  with 
the  college-trained  young  captain.  Rossa,  who  was  as  bold 
as  a  lion,  fought  well,  but  it  was  no  use.  His  comrades 
struck  in,  but  the  door-guards  responded;  and  after  "as 
lovely  a  fight,  sir,  as  ever  you  saw  "  (according  to  one  of  the 
latter),  the  Fenian  party  withdrew.  Somewhat  similar  con- 
flicts occurred  at  other  entrances  ;  but  everywhere  the  as- 
sailants were  defeated.  The  meeting  was  triumphantly 
held.  The  resolutions  were  passed.  The  day  was  won. 
Excusable  momentary  vexation  apart,  I  doubt  if  the  Fenians 
thought  the  worse  of  us  for  our  resolution  and  pluck.  The 
men  on  both  sides  exhibited  a  restraint  as  to  the  use  of  fire- 
arms which  astonished  everybody.  Sharp  and  heavy  blows 
were  given  and  taken,  and  even  some  blood  was  spilt ;  yet 
though  each  man  of  some  hundreds  carried  a  revolver  in 
his  pocket,  not  one  was  drawn.  Had  even  one  been  pro- 
duced, a  hundred  would  have  appeared,  and  a  deplorable 
scene  might  have  ensued.  We  all  rejoiced  that  the  day  had 
passed  off  so  well.  The  citizens  in  general,  I  am  well  aware, 
were  delighted.  All  public  action  in  politics  would  have 


A   TROUBLED  TIME.  335 

been  stopped  by  a  violent  terrorism  had  we  not  made  this 
stand  for  tolerance,  fair  play,  and  freedom.* 

On  the  2d  of  April,  1865,  the  fall  of  Eichmond  closed  the 
American  war.  On  the  7th  General  Lee  surrendered.  By 
June  the  Federal  armies  were  in  process  of  disbandmeiit. 
The  Irish  regiments  were  free.  Hundreds  of  daring  and 
skillful  officers,  spoiled  for  peaceful  pursuits,  were  on  the 
lookout  for  a  sympathetic  cause  in  which  they  might  con- 
tinue their  career.  The  Fenian  leaders  felt  that  the  hour 
for  action  had  arrived.  Arms  were  being  daily  imported 
and  distributed,  although  not  to  anything  like  the  extent 
pretended  by  Mr.  Stephens.  Every  steamer  from  America 
brought  a  number  of  officers,  among  the  earliest  being 
Brigadier-General  T.  F.  Millen,  who  took  up  his  quarters 
in  Dublin  as  chief  in  command.  From  the  Continent  came 
General  Cluseret  and  General  Fariola,  the  former  of  whom 
was  heard  of  subsequently  in  the  struggle  of  the  Commune 
in  Paris.  Every  one  knew  what  was  at  hand,  for  there  was 
a  wondrous  amount  of  publicity  about  the  secret  movements 
of  Fenianism.  The  American  circles,  in  order  to  stimulate 

*  The  Fenian  chief  did  not  all  at  once  desist  from  the  desire  to  try 
conclusions  with  me,  as  the  subjoined  extract  from  the  letter  of  "  An 
Old  Dublin  Center"  (in  the  Irishman  of  the  6th  of  February,  1875), 
inveighing  against  Mr.  Stephens,  reveals  :  "  Once  I  heard  him  declare 
that  he  had  one  town  (Liverpool)  so  organized  and  devoted  to  the  local 
leader  that  he  could  at  any  time  cause  a  panic  in  European  politics  by 
sending  down  orders  to  capture  the  garrison  of  one  thousand  men  and 
hold  the  place  until  there  was  not  one  man  living  among  its  ruins  ; 
and  said  he  would  be  obeyed  to  the  letter.  The  truth  of  this  state- 
ment will  be  seen  when  some  time  afterward  Sullivan  of  the  Nation 
went  to  the  place  to  lecture,  and  he  (Stephens)  sent  orders  to  hunt  him 
out  of  the  town.  What  then  ?  Only  two  or  three  could  be  found  to 
do  the  business,  and  they  were  expelled  the  lecture-hall  on  the  first 
indication  of  disturbance." 

I  remember  the  incident  referred  to  very  well  ;  but  the  "Old  Cen- 
ter" does  Mr.  Stephens  injustice  in  assuming  there  were  not  thousands 
of  Fenians  enrolled  in  Liverpool  because  "  only  two  or  three  "  obeyed 
an  order  so  odious  and  unpopular. 


33G  NEW  IRELAND. 

subscriptions,  published  addresses  announcing  all  that  was 
afoot.  One  issued  by  the  Springfield  circle  "to  their  Amer- 
ican fellow-citizens  "  was  as  follows  : 

"  Ireland  is  about  to  have  her  revolution.  The  day  of  provisional 
government  is  established.  An  army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men  is 
sworn  to  sustain  it.  Officers,  American  and  Irish,  who  have  served 
with  distinction  in  your  service,  are  silently  moving  into  Ireland  to 
assume  control  of  the  active  operations  to  be  inaugurated  in  a  few 
months, — sooner,  much  sooner,  than  any  of  you  believe." 

In  August  the  Irish  newspapers  began  to  fill  with  alarmist 
letters  from  country  gentlemen ;  and  the  contingency  of  a 
midnight  rising  was  discussed  from  a  hundred  points  of  view. 
In  September  the  magistrates  of  Cork  County,  to  the  number 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty,  assembled  in  special  meeting  to 
consider  the  perilous  state  of  affairs.  They  memorialed  the 
Government  on  the  subject,  but  the  Government  had  already 
formed  its  decision.  It  is  not  easy  to  determine  the  stage  at 
which  a  secret  society  can  be  most  effectually  struck.  A 
singular  incident  showed  the  authorities  in  Dublin  Castle 
that  they  had  not  many  moments  to  lose.  On  the  machine- 
room  staff  of  the  Irish  People  was  a  man  named  Pierce  Na- 
gle,  a  great  favorite  and  confidential  agent  or  courier  of  Mr. 
Stephens.  For  more  than  a  year  Nagle  had  been  in  the  se- 
cret pay  of  the  Government,  and  was  supplying  deadly  infor- 
mation against  the  Fenian  chiefs.  One  day  an  envoy  arrived 
from  the  South  Tipperary  B's,  and  received  from  Mr.  Stephens 
a  dispatch  of  the  utmost  secresv  and  importance,  with  which 
he  was  to  return  instantly  to  Clonmel.  The  missive  he  bore 
was  to  be  read  for  the  centers  there,  and  then  destroyed. 
The  envoy  got  rather  overpowered  with  "  refreshment "  in 
the  afternoon,  and  went  to  sleep  on  a  bench  in  the  machine- 
room.  Nagle,  coming  in,  saw  him,  and  rightly  guessed  he 
was  likely  to  have  received  some  important  letter  from  "the 
Captain."  He  quietly  turned  the  pockets  of  the  sleeper  in- 
side out,  and  took  from  him  the  precious  document.  Some 


A  TROUBLED  TIME.  337 

days  elapsed  before  he  was  able  to  find  an  opportunity  for 
safely  handing  it  over  to  the  police.  Once  in  their  posses- 
sion, the  importance  of  that  missive  was  fully  recognized. 
Before  many  hours  it  was  in  the  council-chamber  of  Dublin 
Castle.  A  glance  at  its  contents  showed  Lord  Wodehouse 
that  he  must  strike  quickly  and  strike  hard.  Which  he 
did. 

15 


CHAPTER   XXIL 

THE  BICHMOND  ESCAPE. 

"  HUBBY  in  to  town.  Quick ! — quick  !  There  is  desper- 
ate work.  The  Irish  People  is  suppressed ;  the  office  is  seized ; 
Luby,  O'Leary,  and  Rossa  are  arrested ;  telegraphic  commu- 
nication with  the  South  is  stopped ;  no  one  knows  what  may 
not  be  going  on  ! "  It  was  my  brother  who  spoke  at  my  bed- 
room door  early  in  the  morning  of  Saturday,  16th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1865.  He  had  driven  from  town  to  where  I  lived, 
some  three  miles  distant  in  the  northern  suburbs,  to  bear  me 
news  of  truly  startling  events  that  had  just  occurred. 

"Luby,  O'Leary,  and  Rossa  arrested!"  I  exclaimed. 
"Have  they  got  Stephens  ?" 

"No  ;  not  up  to  the  time  I  left." 

"  Then  depend  upon  it  he  will  fight.  We  shall  have  bar- 
ricades in  the  city  to-night. " 

I  breakfasted  hastily,  my  brother  going  on  with  his  narra- 
tive of  the  proceedings.  I  concealed  my  feelings  as  best  I 
could ;  but  I  took  a  very  serious  view  of  the  situation.  From 
information  which  had  reached  me  during  the  previous  month 
or  two,  I  knew  that  this  coup  did  not  anticipate  by  more  than 
a  few  weeks  the  date  fixed  by  the  Fenian  leaders  for  the  out- 
break of  hostilities.  I  judged  that  the  difference  in  time 
being  so  small,  Mr.  Stephens  would  rather  accept  battle  now 
than  let  his  men  be  struck  down  in  detail.  Moreover,  this 
move  of  the  Government  was  so  obvious,  so  inevitable,  that 
he  must  have  been  prepared  for  it  from  the  first  hour  when 
he  publicly  established  a  central  bureau  of  Fenian  affairs  at 
the  very  threshold  of  the  Castle  and  filled  it  with  the  best  and 

338 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  339 

most  prominent  men  of  his  organization.  I  drove  into  town, 
and  found  excitement  and  alarm  on  all  sides.  It  was  only 
after  a  considerable  interval  I  was  able  to  gather  anything 
like  a  correct  and  coherent  account  of  what  had  occurred,  so 
wild  and  contradictory  were  the  stories  in  circulation. 

On  the  previous  day,  Friday,  15th  of  September,  1865,  a 
privy  council  was  hastily  held  at  Dublin  Castle.  Before  it 
were  laid  reports  from  the  police  authorities  on  the  critical 
state  of  the  Fenian  business ;  the  steady  flow  of  American 
officers  into  the  country ;  the  increased  activity  in  the  prov- 
inces ;  the  arrival  of  large  remittances  of  money  to  the  Fe- 
nian leaders ;  the  extensive  drilling  going  on  all  over  the 
kingdom,  particularly  in  Dublin.  But,  most  important  of 
all,  the  following  letter,  in  the  handwriting  of  the  supreme 
chief  of  the  movement,  was  placed  upon  the  table  : 

"DUBLIN,  Septembers,  1865. 


"  I  regret  to  find  the  letter  I  addressed  to  you  has  never  reached  you. 
Had  you  received  it  I  am  confident  all  would  have  been  right  before 
this  ;  because  I  told  you  explicitly  what  to  do,  and  once  you  saw  your 
way  it  is  sure  to  me  that  you  would  have  done  it  well.  As  far  as  I  can 
understand  your  actual  position  and  wishes  now,  the  best  course  to 
take  is  to  get  all  the  working  B's  together,  and  after  due  deliberation 
and  without  favor  to  any  one — acting  purely  and  conscientiously  for 
the  good  of  the  cause— to  select  one  man  to  represent  and  direct  you 
all.  This  selection  made,  the  man  of  your  choice  should  come  up  here 
at  once,  when  he  shall  get  instructions  and  authority  to  go  on  with  the 
good  work.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost.  This  year— and  let  there  be 
no  mistake  about  it— must  be  the  year  of  action.  I  speak  with  a 
knowledge  and  authority  to  which  no  other  man  could  pretend  ;  and 
I  repeat,  the  flag  of  Ireland— of  the  Irish  Republic — must  this  year  be 
raised.  As  I  am  much  pressed  for  time,  I  shall  merely  add  that  it 
shall  be  raised  in  a  glow  of  hope  such  as  never  gleamed  round  it  be- 
fore.  Be,  then,  of  firm  faith  and  the  best  of  cheer,  for  all  goes  bravely 
on.  Tours  fraternally, 

"  J.  POWEB.* 

"  N.B.  This  letter  must  be  read  for  the  working  B's  only,  and  when 
read  must  be  burnt." 

*  One  of  Stephens's  innumerable  aliases. 


340  NEW  IRELAND. 

This  was  the  letter  which  Pierce  Nagle  had  taken  from  the 
pocket  of  the  intoxicated  Fenian  courier  as  he  lay  asleep  in 
the  Irish  People  office. 

The  Privy  Council  decided  that  the  conspiracy  must  be 
struck  instantly  and  simultaneously  all  over  the  island.  The 
Fenian  organ  was  to  be  seized  and  suppressed ;  the  leaders 
were  everywhere  to  be  arrested.  So  suddenly  was  this  reso- 
lution arrived  at  that  a  difficulty  arose  as  to  seizing  the 
newspaper.  Already  the  bulk  of  its  publication  for  that 
week  was  on  its  way  to  England  and  the  Irish  provinces. 
At  the  very  moment  the  Privy  Council  was  sitting,  the  Irish 
People  machinery  was  printing  off  the  "country  edition," 
and  vans  were  bearing  the  agents'  parcels  to  the  trains  and 
steamboats.  There  was  no  help  for  this  now.  At  three 
o'clock  the  council  broke  up,  and  the  police  got  their  orders 
to  prepare  for  action.  Before  they  ventured  to  stir  in  Dub- 
lin they  telegraphed  to  all  the  "dangerous"  cities  and  towns, 
notifying  the  authorities  in  those  places  that  at  ten  o'clock 
P.M.  a  simultaneous  dash  must  be  made  on  the  Fenians,  and 
that  all  necessary  precautions  must  accordingly  be  taken. 
About  nine  o'clock  the  manager  of  the  Magnetic  Telegraph 
Company  was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  a  Government  official 
with  an  astonishing  request.  He  said  that,  owing  to  "  some- 
thing that  was  about  to  happen,"  the  Government  wished 
all  telegrams  relating  to  Fenianism,  unless  between  the  public 
authorities,  to  be  "  withheld."  The  manager  well  knew  what 
was  meant.  There  was  no  refusing  such  a  polite  invitation. 
The  requisite  assent  was  given.  Indeed,  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,  a  policeman  in  plain  clothes  was  stationed  in 
the  telegraph-office.  All  now  being  ready,  at  half-past  nine 
o'clock  several  bodies  of  police,  well  armed,  were  quietly 
moved  upon  Parliament  Street,  each  end  of  which  they  oc- 
cupied. "While  the  passers-by  were  wondering  at  the  pres- 
ence of  this  police  cordon,  some  of  the  detective  force 
knocked  at  the  door  of  No.  12,  which  was  the  Irish  People 
office.  No  one  opened,  whereupon  the  door  was  forced. 


TEE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  341 

With  a  rush  the  house  was  occupied,  and  ransacked.  No 
person  was  found  within.  The  office-books,  type-forms,  and 
bales  of  printed  papers  (the  "town  edition"  of  the  Irish 
People)  were  brought  out  into  the  street,  piled  on  a  dray, 
and  carried  off  to  the  Castle, — a  guard  of  police  being  left 
on  the  premises.  Barely  half  an  hour  previously  the  Irish 
People  staff  had  left  the  office,  their  labors  for  the  day  being 
over.  Some  of  them  had  not  quitted  the  immediate  vicinity. 
Soon  the  street  rang  with  the  news ;  hearing  it  they  rushed 
out,  and  were  seized.  At  the  same  moment,  other  parties  of 
police  were  at  work  all  over  the  city.  The  residences  of  the 
prominent  Fenians  were  well  known,  and  before  many  hours 
O'Donovan  Eossa,  John  O'Clohissy,  Thomas  Ashe,  Michael 
O'Neill  Fogarty,  Mortimor  Moynihan,  and  W.  F.  Eoantree 
were  lodged  in  prison.  None  of  them  made  resistance.  It 
was  late  after  midnight  when  Mr.  Luby,  who  was  spending 
the  evening  with  a  friend,  returned  to  his  residence  at  Dol- 
phin's Barn.  He  did  not  know  that  two  detectives  had  lain 
concealed  for  hours  in  a  little  shrubbery  close  by,  waiting  for 
him.  He  had  barely  entered  his  house  when  they  knocked, 
gained  admittance,  and  arrested  him.  They  searched  for  pa- 
pers, and  found  several, — among  the  rest  some  letters  from 
an  extraordinary  genius  named  O'Keeffe,  well  known  in  some 
of  the  Dublin  newspaper  offices  for  his  crazy  eccentricities. 
He  had  written  in  his  characteristic  style  to  Mr.  Luby,  urg- 
ing the  revolutionary  leaders,  if  they  meant  business,  to  go 
in  for  a  battue  of  big  landlords  like  the  Duke  of  Leinster. 
To  any  one  who  knew  the  man  the  letter  would  be  an  amusing 
literary  curiosity.  As  such  Mr.  Luby  laughed  over  it  him- 
self, and  showed  it  to  others  to  laugh  at  also.  Unfortunately 
for  him,  however,  he  did  not  destroy  O'Keeffe's  ferocious 
programme.  It  was  a  dangerous  document  for  a  man  en- 
gaged in  political  conspiracy  to  preserve,  as  an  apparent 
reality  and  seriousness  of  meaning  might  be  cast  upon  its 
contents  when  found  among  the  class  of  papers  seized  in  the 
course  of  these  arrests.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  these  wretched 


342  NEW  IRELAND. 

O'Keeffe  letters  were  made  the  foundation  for  charges  against 
the  Fenian  prisoners,  which  some  of  them  felt  more  keenly, 
and  complained  of  more  vehemently,  than  the  severest  tor- 
tures of  prison  punishment.*  The  O'Keeffe  manuscript, 
however,  mischievous  as  was  the  part  it  played  in  subsequent 
events,  was  not  the  most  fatal  discovery  made  on  that  occa- 
sion. In  Mr.  Luby's  desk  was  found  a  sealed  packet  ad- 
dressed "Miss  Frazer."  "What  is  this  ?"  said  the  officer, 
putting  it  on  the  table  before  Mr.  Luby.  For  a  second  his 
lip  trembled  and  his  color  changed  ;  but,  suddenly  recover- 
ing himself,  he  replied  in  a  careless  manner,  "  Oh,  this  is 
something  between  the  ladies  ; "  and  he  pushed  it  across  to 
his  wife.  Before  she  could  stir,  the  officer  seized  it.  That 
sealed  envelope  contained  the  most  conclusive  testimony 
which,  from  the  first  hour  to  the  last,  the  Government  ob- 
tained upon  which  to  convict  the  leading  conspirators.  It 
was  the  commission,  under  the  hand  of  Mr.  Stephens,  as 
supreme  chief  of  the  revolutionary  movement,  appointing 
Messrs.  Luby,  O'Leary,  and  Kickham  a  triumvirate  or  exec- 


*  Nothing  wounded  the  Fenian  leaders  more  than  the  horrible  sug- 
gestion that  they  contemplated  "a  general  massacre  and  universal  pil- 
lage." Taking  the  O'Keeffe  letters  as  their  authority,  the  Castle  officials 
who  prepared  the  brief  or  statement  of  evidence  on  which  the  Crown 
counsel  was  to  act  at  the  preliminary  investigations  broadly  set  forth 
this  revolting  and  cruel  assertion.  The  prisoners  have  never  forgiven 
that  imputation.  They  concentrated  all,  or  nearly  all,  their  anger  on 
the  hapless  gentleman  who  was  Crown  counsel  on  the  occasion  referred 
to,  Mr.  C.  R.  (now  Mr.  Justice)  Barry.  Epitomizing  the  case  as  briefed 
to  him,  he  made  this  statement.  When  subsequently  its  falsehood,  as 
regards  those  prisoners,  was  found  out  in  the  Castle,  all  that  was  done 
was  to  abandon— to  cease  from  mentioning— instead  of  openly  retract- 
ing it.  This  pitiful  course  wronged  the  prisoners  and  wronged  Mr. 
Barry.  It  left  the  former  under  the  odium  of  an  imputation  abhor- 
rent to  them.  It  deprived  the  latter  of  the  opportunity  he  gladly 
would  have  seized  of  displaying  his  generosity  and  high  sense  of  jus- 
tice in  delivering  his  own  mind,  not  the  language  of  a  brief,  on  the 
whole  proceeding. 


THE  EICHMOND  ESCAPE.  343 

ntive  during  his  absence  on  a  visit  to  the  American  circles. 
It  ran  as  follows : 

"  I  hereby  empower  Thomas  Clarke  Luby,  John  O'Leary,  and  Charles 
J.  Kickham  a  Committee  of  Organization  or  Executive,  with  the  same 
supreme  control  over  the  home  organization,  England,  Ireland,  and 
Scotland,  that  I  have  exercised  myself.  I  further  empower  them  to 
appoint  a  Committee  of  Military  Inspection  and  a  Committee  of  Ap- 
peal and  Judgment,  the  functions  of  which  committee  will  be  made 
known  to  every  member  of  them.  Trusting  to  the  patriotism  and 
abilities  of  the  Executive  I  fully  endorse  their  actions  beforehand.  I 
call  on  every  man  in  our  ranks  to  support  and  be  guided  by  them  in 
all  that  concerns  the  military  brotherhood. 

"J.  STEPHENS." 

Mr.  Luby  was  borne  off  to  prison.  His  papers  were  car- 
ried under  seal  to  the  Castle.  Mr.  George  Hopper  (whose 
sister  was  wife  of  Mr.  Stephens),  Mr.  John  O'Leary,  and 
many  others,  were  arrested  in  the  early  morning.  It  may  be 
said  that  before  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Stephens  himself  and  two  or  three  others,  the  Gov- 
ernment had  in  their  grasp  every  man  of  prominence  con- 
nected with  the  Irish  branch  of  the  conspiracy. 

Still,  the  remark  which  almost  involuntarily  fell  from  me 
on  hearing  the  news  that  morning  was  on  every  lip,  "  If  they 
have  not  got  Stephens,  their  swoop  is  vain.  He  will  fill  up 
all  gaps,  and  give  the  signal  for  action  ere  twenty-four 
hours. " 

Meantime  all  over  Ireland  scenes  somewhat  similar  to 
those  above  described  were  proceeding.  Midnight  arrests 
and  seizures,  hurried  flights  and  perilous  escapes,  wild  ru- 
mors and  panic  alarms,  scared  every  considerable  city  and 
town.  It  was  a  critical  time  in  Dublin  Castle.  Sir  Thomas 
Larcom,  Under-Secretary,  sat  up  all  night,  every  five  min- 
utes receiving  reports  and  issuing  directions.  So  anxious 
was  the  Government  as  to  the  successful  seizure  of  the  Irish 
People  office,  that  Mr.  O'Ferrall,  the  Commissioner  of  Police, 
and  Colonel  Wood,  Inspector-General  of  Constabulary,  per- 


344  NEW  IRELAND. 

sonally  superintended  the  proceedings  at  that  spot.  Colonel 
Lake,  C.B.,  took  general  charge  of  the  arrangements  through- 
out the  city  for  effecting  the  arrests  and  suppressing  any  re- 
sistance. In  Dublin  and  Cork  an  outbreak  was  fully  antici- 
pated. Into  the  latter  city  an  additional  battery  of  artillery 
was  hastily  dispatched  from  Ballincollig.  All  the  soldiers 
of  the  garrison  were  aroused  from  their  beds  and  put  under 
arms  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and  reinforcements 
from  Fermoy  and  other  stations  were  rapidly  hurried  in. 

"With  troubled  minds  and  heavy  hearts  the  citizens  of 
Dublin  counted  the  hours  of  that  exciting  day,  alarm  inten- 
sifying as  night  approached.  Many  sat  up  until  near  dawn, 
listening  for  the  first  roar  of  artillery  or  rattle  of  musketry 
in  the  streets ;  and  it  was  with  an  indescribable  sense  of  re- 
lief that  people  found  the  night  pass  tranquilly  away. 

Where  was  Stephens  all  this  time?  Calm  and  undisturbed, 
living  openly  enough  in  a  pretty  suburban  villa  not  two 
miles  from  Dublin  Castle.  Proclamations  offering  two  hun- 
dred pounds  for  his  arrest  were  scattered  all  over  the  coun- 
try, and  a  description  of  his  person  was  posted  at  every 
barrack  door.  Thousands  of  policemen,  hundreds  of  spies 
and  detectives,  were  exerting  every  effort  of  ingenuity  to 
discover  his  whereabouts ;  all  in  vain.  They  scrutinized 
every  railway-passenger ;  they  laid  hands  on  every  commer- 
cial traveler  who  happened  in  any  way  to  resemble  his  de- 
scription. They  had  a  keen  eye  for  everything  that  might 
seem  like  a  disguise.  They  never  thought  of  looking  for 
him  in  no  disguise  at  all!  "Mr.  Herbert,"  of  Fairfield 
House,  Sandymount,  affected  no  concealment.  He  lived, 
no  doubt,  very  much  at  home,  but  he  might  be  seen  nearly 
every  day  in  his  flower-garden  or  greenhouse  busily  arrang- 
ing his  geraniums  or  tending  his  japonicas.  He  lived  well, 
kept  a  good  cellar,  and  had  his  house  furnished  tastefully.  It 
never  occurred  to  the  detective  mind  that  a  placid-looking 
gentleman  so  deeply  immersed  in  horticulture  could  be  con- 
cerned in  politics.  "  Mr.  Herbert,"  no  doubt,  went  into 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  345 

town  occasionally  in  the  evenings.  On  the  night  of  the 
seizure  he  was  at  the  lodgings  of  one  of  the  Fenian  organ- 
izers (Flood)  in  Denzille  Street,  giving  interviews,  one  by 
one,  to  the  agents  and  subordinates  who  waited  in  an  ante- 
room. Suddenly  James  O'Connor,  of  the  Irish  People,  en- 
tered and  asked  for  "the  Captain."  His  manner  was  a  lit- 
tle disturbed,  but  on  being  told  he  should  wait  he  sat  down 
quite  composedly  till  his  turn  came.  On  being  shown  into 
Stephens's  room,  he  told  the  news  :  the  office  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  police ;  Rossa  and  several  of  their  comrades 
had  been  arrested  ;  search  and  seizure  were  being  fiercely 
prosecuted  all  around.  Stephens  excitedly  rushed  into  the 
anteroom  with  the  intelligence.  The  assembled  confederates 
exhibited  their  surprise  and  emotion  in  various  ways.  There 
was  one  among  them  particularly  who  displayed  what  looked 
like'  intense  astonishment  and  concern.  This  was  Pierce 
Nagle,  the  paid  spy  of  the  Government, — who  knew  all ! 

They  separated  for  their  homes.  Mr.  Stephens  reached 
Fairfield  House  in  safety,  and  soundly  slept ;  but  several  of 
the  others  found  themselves  in  the  police-cells  before  morn- 
ing,— with  the  rest,  Pierce  Nagle.  It  was  only  when  next 
day  they  were  brought  up  before  the  magistrates  for  formal 
committal  that  each  was  able  to  know  how  many  of  his 
friends  shared  his  fate.  Much  they  wondered  who  among 
them  had  played  false, — who  would  appear  at  the  critical 
moment  in  the  witness-box  against  them !  They  did  not 
know  he  was  that  moment  standing  in  their  midst, 
apparently  a  prisoner  like  themselves.  At  length,  after 
Pierce  had  played  the  role  of  "martyr"  for  a  few  days,  it 
was  deemed  time  for  him  to  step  forth  in  his  true  charac- 
ter, his  evidence  in  court  being  required.  When  the  day 
arrived,  and  their  former  comrade,  the  trusted  servant  and 
agent  of  their  chief,  stepped  on  the  table  as  Crown  witness, 
to  swear  them  to  the  scaffold,  the  doomed  men  exchanged 
glances  of  despair, — the  despair  that  flings  hope  away,  not 
that  which  quails  before  disaster. 
15* 


346  NEW  IRELAND. 

Two  months  passed  by,  and  still  all  search  for  Stephens 
was  vain.  A  special  commission  was  issued  for  the  trial  of 
Luby,  O'Leary,  Kossa,  and  others,  on  the  approaching  27th 
of  November.  The  story  now  circulated  and  universally  be- 
lieved was  that  Stephens  had  solemnly  announced  these  men 
were  in  no  danger, — nay,  that  they  and  their  prosecutors 
would  exchange  positions  ere  many  days  !  Early  in  Novem- 
ber the  Dublin  police  remarked  that  Mrs.  Stephens  was  seen 
in  Dublin  very  much  as  usual.  They  tracked  her  on  several 
evenings  toward  Sandymount,  and  always  lost  her  in  the 
neighborhood  of  "Mr.  Herbert's"  house.  An  extra  police 
force  was  immediately  stationed  in  the  district,  and  a  minute 
search,  house  by  house  and  road  by  road,  was  prosecuted. 
On  Thursday,  the  9th  of  November,  Mrs.  Stephens  was  ob- 
served to  leave  Fairfield  House  and  proceed  toward  Dublin. 
She  was  dogged  through  the  city  and  back  to  her  home  by 
female  spies.  The  police  now  decided  that  the  man  they 
wanted  was  within  their  power.  On  Friday  evening  the 
house  was  stealthily  surrounded  and  watched  by  a  number 
of  detectives.  Many  circumstances  convinced  them  the  con- 
spirator was  within.  That  the  struggle  to  capture  him 
would  be  desperate  and  bloody  was  the  conviction  in  every 
mind.  About  an  hour  before  dawn  on  Saturday  morning, 
the  whole  of  the  "G"  division  of  police,  under  the  personal 
command  of  Colonel  Lake,  C.B.,  surrounded  the  house.  Six 
divisional  inspectors  scaled  the  garden-wall  and  knocked  at 
the  back  door  of  the  house.  A  voice,  which  two  of  them 
recognized  as  that  of  Stephens,  asked  from  within,  "Who  is 
there  ?  Is  that  Corrigan  ? "  meaning,  it  would  seem,  the 
gardener,  who  usually  came  to  his  work  at  an  early  hour  in 
the  morning. 

The  answer  was,  "Police." 

"I  cannot  let  you  in.  I  am  undressed,"  said  the  C.  0. 
I.  B. 

"  If  you  do  not  open  this  instant,  we  will  burst  the  door," 
rejoined  Inspector  Hughes. 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  347 

Stephens,  who  was  in  his  night-dress,  ran  through  the  hall 
to  the  front  door,  looked  out,  and  saw  that  the  house  was 
surrounded.  He  returned  to  the  back  door,  undid  the  bolts, 
and  rushed  up-stairs  to  his  bedroom.  He  was  quickly  and 
closely  followed  by  the  police,  who  suspected  some  deep  de- 
sign in  this  easy  admittance.  In  the  bedroom  were  Mrs. 
Stephens  and  her  sister.  Detective  officers  Dawson  and 
Hughes  reached  the  room  at  a  few  bounds.  The  former, 
who  knew  the  Fenian  chief,  called  out,  "  How  are  you, 
Stephens  ?  " 

Stephens  looked  angrily  at  the  speaker,  and  cried,  "  Who 
the  devil  are  you  ?  " 

"I  am  Dawson,"  said  the  detective,  with  professional 
pride  in  the  conviction  that  every  one — at  all  events  every 
one  concerned  in  illegal  practices — must  have  heard  of 
"  Dawson." 

"Dawson!  Oh,  indeed!  I  have  read  about  you,"  re- 
plied the  Head  Center,  who  leisurely  proceeded  to  dress  him- 
self. While  this  scene  was  proceeding  in  Stephens's  bedroom, 
the  other  apartments  of  the  house  had  been  rapidly  filled 
with  police,  and  other  captures  barely  less  important  were 
effected.  In  a  bedroom  close  by  were  found  Charles  J. 
Kickham,  Hugh  Brophy,  and  Edward  Duffy,  the  latter  of 
whom  might  have  been  not  incorrectly  called  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  Fenian  movement  west  of  the  Shannon.  Under 
their  pillows  were  found  four  Colt's  revolvers,  loaded  and 
capped.  A  large  sum  of  money — nearly  two  thousand  pounds 
in  notes,  gold,  and  drafts — was  also  found  in  the  room.  The 
house  evidently  had  been  provisioned  as  the  intended  refuge 
of  several  persons  for  some  weeks.  Large  quantities  of 
bacon,  flour,  groceries,  wines,  spirits,  etc.,  were  stored  on  the 
premises.  The  strong  force  of  police  in  and  around  the 
house  showed  to  all  the  captives  the  fruitlessness  of  resist- 
ance. They  quietly  dressed  themselves,  and  long  ere  the 
neighboring  dwellers  were  astir,  or  knew  of  the  astonishing 
drama  that  had  been  enacted  amidst  the  parterres  of  Fair- 


348  NSW  IRELAND. 

field  House,  the  whole  party  were  carried  off  and  secured 
under  bolts  and  bars  in  Dublin  Castle. 

It  was  approaching  noon  before  the  news  got  abroad. 
Then  indeed  the  city  broke  forth  into  excitement  that  was 
not  half  terror.  The  dreaded  C.  0. 1.  E.  was  actually  in 
custody.  Now  might  every  one  sleep  with  easy  mind.  No 
"rising"  need  be  apprehended.  No  lurid  flame  of  civil 
war  would  redden  the  midnight  sky.  Exultation  beamed  on 
every  detective's  face.  "We  have  done  it,"  might  be  read 
in  the  toss  of  every  policeman's  head  as  he  proudly  paced 
his  beat. 

On  the  following  Tuesday  the  four  prisoners  were  brought 
before  the  magistrate  in  the  lower  Castle  yard.  The  van 
which  conveyed  them  was  accompanied  by  a  mounted  escort 
with  drawn  sabers,  and  preceded  and  followed  by  a  number 
of  cars  conveying  policemen  armed  with  cutlass  and  revolver. 
Along  the  route  the  patrols  had  been  well  strengthened,  and 
every  precaution  taken  against  a  rescue.  There  was  great 
anxiety  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  celebrated  Fenian  chief, 
who  since  the  arrests  of  the  15th  of  September  had  become 
for  the  first  time  a  popular  hero.  The  police  escorts  and 
guards,  however,  prevented  any  one  from  approaching.  Not 
a  glance  could  be  exchanged  with  the  object  of  all  this  curi- 
osity. A  distinguished  party  of  viceregal  visitors  or  friends, 
and  some  of  the  higher  executive  functionaries, — including 
Lord  Chelmsford,  Sir  Eobert  Peel,  Colonel  Lake,  Mr.  Wode- 
house,  private  secretary  to  the  Lord- Lieutenant,  and  others, 
— were  accommodated  with  seats  in  the  magistrate's  room, 
having  shared  the  general  desire  for  a  look  at  "the  Captain." 
Indeed  it  is  said  the  lady  of  one  of  them  successfully  pleaded 
for  a  glimpse  of  Stephens  and  his  colleagues  while  in  the 
prison.  When  Nagle  was  brought  in,  he  perceptibly  trem- 
bled, and  avoided  meeting  the  gaze  of  the  prisoners.  Ste- 
phens bore  himself  quite  coolly,  nay,  cavalierly.  His  letter 
to  the  Clonmel  "B's"  was  read  as  evidence.  When  the 
clerk  came  to  the  passage  declaring  this  should  be  "the 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  349 

year  of  action,"  Stephens  startled  them  all  by  loudly  inter- 
jecting, "  So  it  may  be." 

Although  he  must  have  read  in  the  public  newspapers  of 
the  extensive  seizure  of  letters  and  other  documents  in  the 
course  of  the  previous  arrests,  he  seems  to  have  kept  quite  a 
store  of  like  evidence  at  Fairfield  House.  There  were  lists 
or  rolls  of  the  American  officers  ;  name,  ranks,  traveling 
charges  paid  them,  and  the  dates  of  sailing  for  Ireland. 
There  was  a  minute,  or  memorandum,  apparently  of  the 
Military  Council,  settling  the  pay  in  dollars  which  those 
officers  were  to  receive  :  major-general,  monthly,  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  ;  brigadier-general,  four  hundred  dol- 
lars ;  colonel  (special  arm),  two  hundred  and  forty-eight 
dollars ;  ditto  infantry  line,  two  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
dollars ;  lieutenant-colonel  (special  arm),  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars ;  ditto  infantry  line,  two  hundred  and 
fifteen  dollars ;  major  (special),  two  hundred  dollars ;  cap- 
tains, of  all  arms,  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars ;  lieu- 
tenants, one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars ;  second  ditto, 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  dollars.  There  was  a  list  of  places  or- 
ganized, and  of  the  centers  in  charge,  a  sheet  of  cipher-terms, 
and  letters  in  great  abundance.  In  truth,  the  documents 
seized  on  this  occasion  enabled  the  organization  to  be  gripped 
far  more  extensively  and  effectually  than  was  possible  before. 

The  preliminary  examination  extended  over  a  couple  of 
days.  At  its  close,  on  "Wednesday,  15th  of  November,  the 
magistrate,  previous  to  committing  the  prisoners,  asked 
each  if  he  had  any  observations  to  make.  Stephens  said  he 
had. 

The  magistrate. — "I  shall  be  bound  to  take  it  down." 
Stephens. — "  Yes  ;  take  it  down." 

Then  rising  to  his  feet  and  folding  his  arms,  he  said,  "  I 
have  employed  no  lawyer  in  this  case,  because  in  making  a 
defense  of  any  kind  I  should  be  recognizing  British  law  in 
Ireland.  Now,  I  deliberately  and  conscientiously  repudiate 
the  existence  of  that  law  in  Ireland, — its  right,  or  even  its 


350  NEW  IRELAND. 

existence,  in  Ireland  ;  and  I  defy  any  punishment,  and  de- 
spise any  punishment,  it  can  inflict  upon  me.  I  have 
spoken  it." 

What  did  this  mean  ?  Ten  days  subsequently  these  words 
were  recalled,  with  a  full  perception  of  their  import. 

"  Stephens  has  escaped  !  Stephens  has  escaped  ! "  This 
was  the  cry  which  rang  from  end  to  end  of  Dublin  on  the 
morning  of  Saturday  the  25th  of  November,  1865. 

"  Stephens  ?    Escaped  ?  " 

"Yes!" 

"  From  Eichmond  Bridewell  ?  When  ?  How  ?  Impos- 
sible!" 

Such  were  the  exclamations  or  interrogations  to  be  heard 
on  every  side.  Stephens  escaped  !  Consternation — utter, 
hopeless  consternation — reigned  throughout  the  city;  that 
is  to  say,  among  the  business  classes.  The  populace  were 
very  differently  affected.  This  daring  achievement  was  all 
that  was  necessary  to  immortalize  the  Fenian  leader.  The 
police  and  detectives  went  about  the  streets  crestfallen 
and  humiliated ;  while  members  of  the  Fenian  fraternity 
could  be  pretty  well  identified  by  the  flashing  eye,  the  exult- 
ant countenance,  the  wild  strong  grip  with  which  they 
greeted  one  another. 

The  Fenian  leaders  had  been  confined  in  Eichmond  prison, 
awaiting  their  trial  on  the  27th  of  November.  When  built, 
fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  Eichmond  was  one  of  the  strongest 
jails  in  Ireland  ;  but  it  was  entirely  wanting  in  those  facili- 
ties for  supervision  which  the  modern  prisons  with  radiating 
corridors  possess.  At  the  head  of  one  of  the  several  stone 
stairs  which  connect  the  ground-floor  cell  system  with  the 
upper  tier  ran  a  short  cross-corridor  of  six  cells.  The  door 
between  the  corridor  and  stairhead  was  of  heavy  hammered 
iron,  nearly  an  inch  thick,  and  secured  by  a  lock  opening 
from  either  side.  The  cell-doors  were  likewise  of  wrought 
iron,  fastened  with  ponderous  swinging  bars  and  padlocks. 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  351 

The  other  end  of  the  corridor  was  closed  by  a  similar  door. 
In  these  six  cells,  thus  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  prison, 
Stephens,  Luby,  O'Leary,  Kickham,  and  Rossa  were  con- 
fined. In  the  sixth  cell,  that  between  Stephens  and  Kick- 
ham,  the  governor,  Mr.  Marquess,  placed  a  young  lad, 
named  McLeod,  an  ordinary  prisoner,  with  instructions  to 
listen  at  night,  and  ring  his  cell-gong  if  he  heard  anything 
close  by.  Lest  there  might  be  any  tampering  or  undue 
communication,  no  warder  or  other  person  was  allowed  in 
the  corridor  at  night,  but  a  warder  and  policeman  were 
placed  outside  the  locked  door  at  the  end  opposite  the  stair- 
head door.  At  the  latter  no  watch  was  deemed  necessary. 
Military  guards  and  sentries,  and  a  detachment  of  police, 
had  been  plentifully  placed  in  the  prison  when  first  Stephens 
was  committed  ;  but  the  Castle  raised  a  petty  squabble  with 
the  prison  board  as  to  the  expense  of  these  men,  and  they 
were  almost  all  withdrawn.  A  dispute  over  ten  or  twelve 
pounds  cost  the  Government  the  prize  for  which  they  after- 
ward offered  a  thousand,  and  would  have  given  five  times  as 
much  right  readily  1 

Vain  were  all  bolts  and  bars,  iron  doors  and  grated  win- 
dows, to  hold  Stephens  in  that  prison.  In  anticipation  of 
such  a  possibility  as  that  which  had  occurred,  some  of  the 
prison  officers  had  long  previously  been  secretly  secured  as 
sworn  members  of  the  "I.  R.  B."  One,  J.  J.  Breslin,  was 
hospital  superintendent ;  another,  Byrne,  was  night-watch- 
man, whose  duty  it  was  to  patrol  the  whole  building,  yards, 
and  passages,  from  "  lock-up  "  at  night  to  "  unlock  "  each 
morning.  Breslin  had  a  pass-key  for  all  interior  doors ; 
Byrne  had  one  for  interior  and  exterior.  The  moment  "the 
Captain"  was  brought  in,  wax  impressions  or  molds  of 
these  keys  were  taken,  and  duplicates  were  at  once  manu- 
factured by  an  expert  hand  among  the  brotherhood  in  the 
city. 

As  long,  however,  as  the  sentries  and  patrols  were  around, 
free  access  through  the  doors  was  of  little  advantage.  For- 


352  NEW  IRELAND. 

tunately  for  the  Fenian  leader,  the  dispute  about  expense 
(already  referred  to)  drew  off  the  danger.  By  Thursday  the 
23d  of  November  the  coast  was  clear ;  and  it  was  decided 
that  on  the  following  night  his  liberation  must  be  effected. 

Night  came.  Lock-up  and  final  inspection  were  duly  com- 
pleted. The  warders  paraded,  and  gave  up  their  pass-keys 
to  be  locked  in  the  governor's  safe.  The  watches  were 
posted,  and  sang  out,  "  All's  well."  Stephens  did  not  go  to 
bed  at  all.  He  sat  up  through  the  night,  aware  that  some 
time  between  midnight  and  morning  his  deliverer  would  be  at 
hand.  The  elements  were  propitious.  For  years  Dublin  had 
not  been  visited  by  such  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  as  howled 
through  the  pitchy  darkness  of  that  night.  The  prison  clock 
had  chimed  one  when  Stephens  heard  a  stealthy  footfall  ap- 
proach. The  stairhead  door  was  unlocked.  A  friendly  tap 
at  his  own  door,  and  soon  it  swings  open.  Daniel  Byrne  and 
James  Breslin  are  outside.  Softly  they  descend  the  stair, 
each  man  now  grasping  a  revolver,  for  desperate  work  has 
been  begun.  They  gain  the  yard,  and  reach  the  boundary- 
wall  at  a  spot  outside  which  confederates  were  to  be  in  waiting. 
They  fling  over  the  wall  a  few  pebbles, — the  pre-arranged 
signal.  In  answer  a  small  sod  of  grass  is  thrown  to  them  from 
the  other  side.  Then  they  bring  from  the  lunatic  prisoners' 
day-room,  which  is  close  by,  two  long  tables,  which  they  lay 
against  the  wall.  A  rope  is  thrown  over,  which  Byrne  and 
Breslin  are  to  hold  while  Stephens  descends  by  it  on  the  outer 
side.  He  mounts  the  tables  ;  he  gains  the  top,  and  swings 
into  the  arms  of  his  friends  below.  Though  rain  is  falling 
in  torrents,  and  each  one  is  drenched  to  the  skin,  they  bound 
with  joy  and  embrace  effusively.  Stephens  is  hurried  off 
with  a  single  attendant  to  the  asylum  already  selected  for  him 
in  the  city.  Breslin  retires  to  his  room  in  the  prison,  and 
Byrne  resumes  his  duty  patrol ! 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mr.  Philpots,  deputy  gov- 
ernor, was  excitedly  called  by  Byrne,  who,  faithful  and  vigi- 
lant officer  that  he  was,  reported  that  he  had  found  two  tables 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  353 

in  the  yard  close  by  the  boundary-wall,  and  much  he  feared 
that  something  had  gone  wrong.  *  They  ran  to  the  governor 
and  aroused  him.  All  hurried  to  the  corridor  where  the 
Fenians  ought  to  be.  Lo  !  one  of  the  cell-doors  ajar,  and 
the  "  C.  0.  I.  R."  flown.  All  the  others— Luby,  Kickham, 
O'Leary,  Kossa — were  safe  and  sound,  but  the  man  of  men 
for  them  was  gone  ! 

Mr.  Marquess  asked  McLeod  if  he  had  heard  any  noise. 
Yes,  he  had,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  he  heard 
some  one  open  the  end  door,  come  to  Stephens's  cell,  and 
unlock  it. 

"  Why  did  you  not  pull  your  gong,  as  I  told  you  to  do  ?  " 
asked  the  distracted  governor. 

"  Because  I  knew  whoever  was  doing  this  was  likely  to  be 
armed,  and  could  open  my  cell  also,  and  take  my  life,"  was 
the  intelligent  and  indeed  conclusive  answer. 

At  no  time  probably  since  Emmet's  insurrection  were  the 
Irish  executive  authorities  thrown  into  such  dismay  and  con- 
fusion as  on  this  occasion.  They  now  realized  what  it  was  to 
deal  with  a  secret  society.  Whom  could  they  trust  ?  How 
could  they  measure  their  danger  ?  Very  evidently  the  ground 
beneath  them  was  mined  in  all  directions.  Uncertainty  mag- 
nified every  danger.  Meantime,  the  most  desperate  efforts 
were  made  to  recapture  Stephens.  Cavalry  scoured  the  coun- 
try round.  Police  scattered  all  over  the  city,  particularly 
in  suspected  neighborhoods,  ransacked  houses,  tore  down 
wainscoting,  ripped  up  flooring,  searched  garrets,  cellars, 
coal-holes.  Telegrams  went  flying  all  over  the  kingdom ; 
steamers  were  stopped  and  the  passengers  examined  ;  gun- 
boats put  to  sea  and  overhauled  and  searched  fishing-smacks 

*  A  few  days  later  on  Byrne  was  arrested.  A  copy  of  the  Fenian 
oath  and  other  seditious  documents  were  found  in  his  desk  within  the 
prison  ;  but  the  Crown  would  not  bring  home  to  him  the  charge  of  aid- 
ing Stephens's  escape.  Breslin  remained  unsuspected  in  the  prison  ser- 
vice for  several  months  subsequently,  when  he  took  leave  of  absence, 
fled  to  America,  and  there  proudly  avowed  all. 


354  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  coasters.  Flaming  placards  appeared  with  "One 
Thousand  Pounds  Reward  "  in  large  letters  announcing  the 
escape,  and  offering  a  high  price  for  the  lost  one.  The  "  C. 
0.  I.  R."  was  all  this  time,  and  for  a  long  period  subse- 
quently, secreted  in  the  house  of  a  Mrs.  Butler  of  Summer 
Hill,  a  woman  of  humble  means.*  She  knew  her  peril  in 
sheltering  him.  She  knew  what  would  be  her  reward  in  sur- 
rendering him.  She  was  poor,  and  could  any  moment  earn 
one  thousand  pounds  by  giving  merely  a  hint  to  the  author- 
ities. Stephens  confided  himself  implicitly  into  her  hands, 
and  he  did  not  trust  her  in  vain. 

One  Sunday  evening  about  three  months  afterward  a 
handsome  open  carriage-and-four  drove  through  the  streets 
of  the  Irish  metropolis,  two  stalwart  footmen  seated  in  the 
dickey  behind.  Two  gentlemen  reclined  lazily  on  the  cush- 
ioned seat  within.  They  proceeded  northward  through 
Malahide  and  toward  Balbriggan.  Near  the  latter  place, 
close  by  the  sea,  the  carriage  stopped.  One  of  the  occupants 
got  out,  and  walked  down  to  the  shore,  where  a  boat  was  in 
waiting.  He  entered,  and  was  pulled  off  to  a  lugger  in  the 
offing.  The  carriage  returned  to  Dublin.  The  * '  coach  man, " 
"postilion,"  "footmen,"  and  companion  were  all  picked 
men  of  the  "I.  R.  B.,"  and  were  armed  to  the  teeth.  The 
gentleman  placed  on  board  the  lugger,  now  speeding  down 
the  Channel  with  flowing  sheets  for  France,  was  James 
Stephens,  the  "Central  Organizer  of  the  Irish  Republic." 

*  She  died  a  few  years  ago  in  a  public  hospital  of  the  city. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INSUBBECTION  1 

FOB  three  weary  years  Ireland  endured  the  perils  and 
pains  of  a  smoldering  insurrection.  Stephens's  decree  as  to 
the  "  year  of  action  "  came  to  naught :  1865  went  out  gloom- 
ily enough,  but  without  the  expected  convulsion.  Still, 
every  one  could  discern  that  the  danger  had  by  no  means 
blown  over.  The  Fenians,  it  was  well  known,  were  making 
strenuous  efforts  to  repair  the  gaps  made  in  their  ranks,  and 
to  recover  themselves  for  a  stroke  in  force.  The  two  years 
which  followed  the  first  arrests  were  little  else  than  a  pro- 
jtracted  struggle  between  the  Government  and  the  secret 
organization.  The  former  was  striking  out  vehemently, 
smashing  through  circles,  pouncing  on  councils,  seizing  cen- 
ters, destroying  communications,  raiding  right  and  left 
through  the  shattered  lines  of  the  "I.  R.  B."  The  latter, 
on  the  other  hand,  undeterred  by  disaster,  went  on,  clinging 
desperately  and  doggedly  to  the  work  of  reconstruction.  As 
fast  as  seizures  swept  off  leaders,  others  stepped  into  the 
vacant  posts.  Court-house,  dock,  and  prison-van  were  filled 
and  emptied  again  and  again.  Assize  and  commission,  com- 
mission and  assize,  took  their  dismal  turn.  The  deadly  duel 
went  on.  It  seemed  interminable. 

T.  C.  Luby  was  the  first  of  the  prisoners  brought  to  the 
bar.  His  trial  lasted  for  four  days, — from  the  28th  of  No- 
vember to  the  1st  of  December,  1865,  inclusive.  He  had  for 
his  leading  counsel  Mr.  Isaac  Butt,  whose  masterly  abilities 
in  previous  State  trials,  the  theme  of  national  praise,  were 
displayed  even  more  conspicuously  now.  But  there  was  no 

355 


356  NEW  IRELAND. 

struggling  against  the  overwhelming  evidence  of  documents 
preserved  by  the  conspirators  themselves.  The  "  Clonmel 
letter  "  and  the  "  executive  commission"  sealed  the  doom  of 
the  three  men  who  were  incontestably  the  ablest  and  most 
prominent  of  the  Fenian  leaders.  Luby  was  found  guilty 
and  condemned  to  penal  servitude  for  twenty  years.  While 
the  jury  in  his  case  were  absent  from  court  deliberating  on 
their  verdict,  O'Leary  was  put  to  the  bar.  On  the  6th  of 
December  his  trial  closed  with  a  conviction  and  a  sentence 
of  twenty  years'  penal  servitude.  Next  came  Rossa.  He 
dismissed  the  lawyers  and  announced  that  he  meant  to  con- 
duct his  own  defense.  Never  was  such  a  scene  witnessed  in 
that  court-house!  "He  cross-examined  the  informers  in 
fierce  fashion,"  says  an  eye-witness  ;  "  he  badgered  the  detec- 
tives, he  questioned  the  police,  he  debated  with  the  Crown 
lawyers,  he  argued  with  the  judges,  he  fought  with  the  Crown 
side  all  round.  But  it  was  when  the  last  of  the  witnesses 
had  gone  off  the  table  that  he  set  to  work  in  good  earnest. 
He  took  up  the  various  publications  that  had  been  put  in 
evidence  against  him,  and  claimed  his  legal  right  to  read 
them  all  through.  One  of  them  was  the  file  of  the  Irish 
People  for  the  whole  term  of  its  existence  !  Horror  sat  upon 
the  faces  of  judges,  jurymen,  sheriffs,  lawyers,  turnkeys,  and 
all,  when  the  prisoner  gravely  informed  them  that  as  a  com- 
promise he  would  not  insist  upon  reading  the  advertisements  ! 
The  fight  went  on  throughout  the  livelong  day,  till  the  usual 
hour  of  adjournment  had  come  and  gone,  and  the  prisoner 
himself  was  feeling  parched  and  weary  and  exhausted.  Ob- 
serving that  the  lights  were  being  now  renewed,  and  that 
their  lordships  appeared  satisfied  to  sit  out  the  night,  he  anx- 
iously inquired  if  the  proceedings  were  not  to  be  adjourned 
till  morning.  "Proceed,  sir,"  was  the  stern  reply  of  the 
judge,  who  knew  that  the  physical  powers  of  the  prisoner 
could  not  hold  out  much  longer.  "  A  regular  Norbury  !  " 
gasped  O'Donovan.  "It's  like  a  '98  trial."  "You  had 
better  proceed  with  propriety,"  exclaimed  the  judge. 


INSURRECTION  I  357 

"  When  do  you  propose  stopping,  my  lord  ?  "  again  inquired 
the  prisoner.  "Proceed,  sir,"  was  the  reiterated  reply. 
O'Donovan  could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  had  been  reading 
and  speaking  for  eight  hours  and  a  half.  With  one  final 
protest,  he  sat  down,  exclaiming  that  "  English  law  might 
now  take  its  course." 

On  the  day  following  this  remarkable  scene,  Rossa  was 
sentenced  to  penal  servitude  for  life,  an  excess  of  punishment 
over  that  assigned  to  his  colleagues,  arising  out  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  adjudged  guilty  on  a  like  charge  in  1858, 
and  had  then  been  released  on  bond  of  "good  behavior,"  and 
an  undertaking  to  appear  for  sentence  when  called  on. 

Many  of  the  prisoners  were  military  men,  and  to  these 
trial  by  the  civil  tribunal  was  rigidly  denied.  The  courts- 
martial  had  a  grim  sensation  of  their  own  ;  for  flogging  was 
often  portion  of  the  sentence  inflicted ;  and  that  revolting 
spectacle,  which  no  one  who  has  ever  looked  on  it  would 
willingly  behold  again,  shocked  the  Dublin  public  from  time 
to  time. 

It  was  not  the  power  and  arms  of  the  British  Government 
alone  that  operated  to  disorganize  and  destroy  the  Fenian 
movement.  Dissension  and  revolt  among  its  leaders  broke 
its  power.  Before  two  years  Stephens  was  the  object  of  fierce 
denunciation  from  his  own  followers,  and  John  O'Mahony 
was  deposed  and  degraded  by  the  Senate  of  the  American 
Branch,  over  which  he  had  so  long  presided.  In  each  case 
the  dethroned  or  impeached  leaders  had  numerous  partisans, 
so  that  the  unity  of  the  organization  on  each  side  of  the 
Atlantic  was  at  an  end. 

Stephens,  having  remained  a  short  time  in  France,  after 
his  escape  from  Ireland,  proceeded  to  America,  and  sought 
to  bring  the  sundered  sections  of  the  brotherhood  there  under 
his  own  sole  authority.  But  although  in  Ireland  he  was  still 
believed  in  and  obeyed  implicitly  as  ever,  already  among  the 
circles  on  the  other  side  his  pretensions  and  his  abilities  were 
being  severely  canvassed.  He  found  but  few  willing  to  con- 


358  NEW  IRELAND. 

stitute  him  a  dictator,  and  this  he  would  be  or  nothing.  The 
more  resolute  and  influential  Fenian  party  in  the  States  dis- 
carded him  altogether,  and,  on  the  policy  of  "  striking  Eng- 
land where  they  could,"  attempted  the  daring  design  of  an 
invasion  of  Canada.  This  was  of  course  utterly  frustrated 
by  the  interference  of  the  American  Government ;  and  a  loud 
outcry  was  raised  by  the  Irish  that  they  had  been  cheated  by 
the  Washington  authorities.  The  promises  or  intimations 
held  out  when  recruits  were  needed  during  the  Civil  War 
were  now  found  to  be  mere  skillful  lures  to  catch  an  ardent 
and  soldierly  race  more  full  of  courage  than  of  wisdom. 
This  Canadian  failure  was  used  by  Stephens  to  the  reproach 
of  those  who  had  declined  his  discretion,  and  now  he  said  he 
would  show  them  the  right  road.  He  would  return  to  Ire- 
land and  unfurl  the  flag  of  revolution.  Once  more  he  em- 
phatically declared  for  "this  year."  At  a  public  meeting  in 
Jones's  Wood,  New  York,  he  reiterated  the  pledge,  sealing 
his  declaration  with  a  solemn  oath,  This  announcement, 
made  in  the  autumn  of  1866,  plunged  Ireland  anew  into  the 
whirl  of  startling  rumors  and  wild  alarms. 

The  insurrection,  or  attempted  insurrection,  of  1867  was 
one  of  those  desperate  and  insensate  proceedings  into  which 
men  involved  in  a  ruined  cause  sometimes  madly  plunge, 
rather  than  bow  to  the  disgrace  and  dishonor  of  defeat  with- 
out a  blow.  Stephens  spent  all  the  latter  half  of  1866  in 
endeavors  to  raise  money  in  America  for  the  newly-promised 
rising.  Again  and  again  he  announced  that  1866  would  not 
pass  away  without  the  tocsin-call  to  arms,  and  that  he,  James 
Stephens,  would  be  on  Irish  soil  to  perish  or  conquer.  Sin- 
ister insinuations  began  to  creep  about  that  he  would  do 
nothing  of  what  he  vowed ;  but  these  were  silenced  by  an- 
nouncements in  November  that  he  had  left  America  and 
sailed  for  Ireland.  Then  indeed  the  Irish  Government  stood 
to  arms.  Then  did  alarm  once  more  paralyze  all  minds.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  worst  reality  would  be  less  painful  than  this 
prolonged  uncertainty  and  recurring  panic.  War-steamers 


INSURRECTION  I  359 

cruised  around  the  island.  Every  harbor  and  landing-place 
was  watched.  Every  fishing-boat  was  searched.  Every  pas- 
senger was  scrutinized.  Each  morning  people  scanned  the 
papers  eagerly  to  learn  if  the  Rebel  Chief  had  yet  been  dis- 
covered. As  the  last  week  of  1866  approached,  the  public 
apprehension  became  almost  unbearable.  Until  the  great 
clock  of  the  General  Post-Office  had  chimed  midnight  on  the 
31st  of  December,  and  Christ  Church  bells  rang  in  the  new 
year,  the  belief  that  an  explosion  was  at  hand  could  not  be 
shaken. 

Stephens  had  not  stirred  from  America.  All  this  time  he 
was  secreted  in  the  house  of  a  friend  in  Brooklyn.  He  did 
not  venture  on  Irish  soil  either  to  conquer  or  to  perish.  He 
realized  the  hopelessness  of  the  attempt  he  had  sworn  to 
undertake,  and  preferred  to  face  the  rage  and  scorn  of  hia 
followers  rather  than  the  perils  that  awaited  him  in  Ireland. 
He  had  no  ambition  to  occupy  a  cell  beside  Luby  and  Kick- 
ham  in  Millbank  or  Woking.  In  truth,  the  Irish  Fenian 
Chief  may  be  said  at  this  point  to  have  disappeared  from 
the  scene.  Scorning  to  defend  himself,  he  has  ever  since 
remained  silent  alike  under  blame  and  praise.  Intolerant, 
unscrupulous,  and  relentless  himself  in  his  day  of  power, 
he  has  been  the  victim  of  many  a  wrong  and  been  pursued 
by  many  a  hate  in  his  fall.  The  absurd  exaggeration  of  his 
abilities  which  once  prevailed  has  been  followed  by  a  mon- 
strously unjust  depreciation  of  them.  He  was  a  born  con- 
spirator ;  and,  though  comrades  and  subordinates  have 
changed  idolatry  for  execration,  Stephens  must  be  ranked 
as  one  of  the  ablest,  most  skillful,  and  most  dangerous  revo- 
lutionists of  our  time. 

The  shouts  of  derision  which  arose  over  this  Stephens 
fiasco  cut  like  daggers  to  the  hearts  of  the  men  in  Ireland 
and  America  who  clung  with  invincible  tenacity  to  the  fatal 
purpose  of  an  armed  struggle.  At  every  check  and  reverse 
which  befell  the  Fenian  enterprise  the  English  newspapers 
wrote  confidently  of  the  "collapse"  and  "termination." 


360  NEW  IEELAND. 

"  The  end  of  it"  was  announced  and  gravely  written  upon 
a  score  of  times  between  1865  and  1868,  and  morals  and 
lessons  were  preached  from  what  was  regarded  as  a  past 
transaction.  While  a  general  chorus  of  felicitation  was 
being  raised  in  the  press  over  this  the  "  really  final  disap- 
pearance" of  the  Fenian  specter,  the  Government  became 
aware,  early  in  1867,  that  "the  men  at  home,"  discarding 
reliance  on  American  aid  (beyond  the  assistance  of  the  nu- 
merous military  staff  still  concealed  in  the  country),  meant 
to  strike  at  last. 

At  a  secret  council  of  delegates  held  in  Dublin,  the  12th 
of  February  was  fixed  on  for  a  simultaneous  rising;  and 
word  to  this  intent  was  sent  throughout  the  island.  A  day 
or  two  previous  to  this  date  it  was  decided  to  postpone  pro- 
ceedings to  the  5th  of  March.  The  countermand  failed  to 
reach  in  time  the  Fenian  captain  in  command  at  Cahir- 
civeen ;  and  on  Wednesday,  13th  of  February,  the  news 
rang  out  that  West  Kerry  was  aflame.  From  Killarney 
came  word  that  the  wires  westward  were  all  cut,  that  a 
mounted  policeman  carrying  dispatches  had  been  captured 
and  shot,  that  coast-guard  stations  and  police  barracks  had 
been  disarmed,  and  that  the  Iverah  hills  "swarmed"  with 
men.  Much  of  this  was  exaggeration ;  but  the  worst  was 
believed  for  the  time.  The  gentry  of  the  neighborhood 
flocked  into  Killarney,  bringing  their  wives  and  children, 
and  many  of  them  their  plate,  jewels,  and  other  valuables. 
They  took  possession  of  the  railway  hotel,  and,  assisted  by 
some  military  and  police,  set  about  fortifying  it.  A  stock 
of  provisions  was  laid  in.  The  ladies  made  bags  which  the 
gentlemen  filled  with  sand  and  piled  in  the  windows.  Arms 
were  distributed,  sentries  posted,  scouts  sent  out,  and  urgent 
appeals  for  aid  were  telegraphed  to  Dublin  Castle.  Mean- 
time, from  Dublin,  Cork,  and  Limerick  military  hastened 
to  the  place,  as  many  as  three  express-trains  being  dispatched 
with  troops  from  the  Curragh  camp  within  twenty-four 
hours  of  the  alarm.  What  had  really  happened  was  that 


INSURRECTION  I  361 

the  Cahirciveen  insurrectionary  contingent,  unaware  of  the 
countermand  that  had  reached  all  other  places,  marched  out 
on  the  night  of  the  12th,  to  meet,  as  they  believed,  the 
forces  from  neighboring  districts.  It  was  only  after  they 
had  approached  Killarney  that  they  discovered  how  the 
facts  lay,  and  they  forthwith  dispersed  as  best  they  could. 
The  district  being  so  wild  and  mountainous,  and  communi- 
cation so  difficult,  it  was  a  week  before  the  Government 
authorities  could  realize  that  all  was  over, — that  Iverah,  as 
that  portion  of  the  county  is  called,  was  not  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  powerful  rebel  force.  Headed  by  the  local  gentry, 
parties  of  military  and  police  commenced  the  "surround- 
ing" of  mountains  and  the  "beating"  of  woods  supposed  to 
conceal  forces  as  numerous  and  desperate  as  those  roused  by 
the  whistle  of  Roderick  Vich  Alpine  Dhu.  Ever  and  anon 
as  a  wild  deer  broke  from  his  cover  in  the  fern  a  shout 
would  arise.  "Here  they  are!"  Bugles  sounded;  the 
troops  closed  in  for  a  dash  at  the  enemy,  but  found  he  was 
only  the  antlered  lord  of  the  glen  ! 

Elsewhere,  work  much  more  serious  had  very  nearly  fol- 
lowed upon  a  like  failure  in  the  Fenian  countermand. 

It  was  resolved  that  the  circles  of  Lancashire  should  co- 
operate with  the  Dublin  movement  by  a  proceeding  which 
for  daring  and  audacity  could  hardly  be  excelled.  They  had 
information  that  Chester  Castle  contained  some  twenty 
thousand  stand  of  arms,  besides  accouterments  and  ammu- 
nition to  a  large  extent,  and  that  the  place  had  only  a 
nominal  garrison.  A  Fenian  military  council  in  Liverpool 
decided  to  attack  Chester  Castle,  seize  the  arms,  cut  the 
telegraph  wires,  "impress"  the  railway  rolling-stock,  load 
trains  with  men  and  arms,  and  make  for  Holyhead.  Here 
they  were  to  seize  all  the  steamers  in  port,  and  speed  for 
Dublin,  in  the  expectation  of  landing  in  that  city  before  in- 
telligence of  their  astounding  feat  could  possibly  have 
reached  Ireland  ! 

It  is  now  admitted  that  they  would  have  succeeded,  at  all 
16 


362  NEW  IRELAND. 

events  so  far  as  capturing  Chester  Castle,  were  it  not  that  at 
the  secret  council  which  sat  to  complete  the  arrangements 
there  was  present  John  Joseph  Corydon,  one  of  Stephens's 
most  trusted  agents,  high  in  the  confidence  of  the  conspira- 
tors,— and  deep  in  the  pay  of  the  Government.  Corydon 
carried  the  news  of  the  projected  attack  on  Chester  to  Major 
Gregg,  Chief  Constable  of  Liverpool.  It  was  subsequently 
alleged,  but  disputed,  that  nearly  a  whole  day  was  lost  by 
the  authorities  through  their  utter  incredulity  as  to  this 
sensational  story.  Certainly  it  was  only  within  a  few  hours 
of  the  time  fixed  for  the  attack  that  its  imminence  was  real- 
ized. By  all  the  morning  trains  from  Manchester,  Bolton, 
Warrington,  etc.,  numbers  of  able-bodied  Irishmen  were  ob- 
served to  arrive  at  Chester.  They  lounged  carelessly  about 
in  small  parties,  and  seemed  to  be  awaiting  others.  Sud- 
denly the  chief  constable  of  Chester  and  the  colonel  of  the 
military  received  telegrams  which  must  have  taken  their 
breath  away.  The  guards  on  the  Castle  were  instantly 
doubled ;  the  police  marched  out ;  mounted  expresses 
dashed  off  in  all  directions.  Soon  troops  began  to  arrive 
from  Birkenhead  as  fast  as  special  trains  could  bring  them. 
Very  quickly  the  loitering  groups  were  observed  to  disperse, 
on  some  whispered  message  reaching  them.  They  poured 
into  every  train,  returning  to  the  towns  they  had  left  in  the 
morning.  They  had  got  word  that  the  plot  was  "blown 
upon"  by  some  traitor,  and  must  be  abandoned.  Some  of 
them  were  observed  to  fling  revolvers  into  the  Dee.  A  large 
party  took  the  train  to  Holyhead,  and  the  North- wall  boat 
to  Dublin.  The  moment  they  touched  Irish  ground  they 
were  arrested  and  marched  off  to  Kilmainham  prison. 

Before  our  minds  had  recovered  from  the  perplexity  and 
confusion  which  these  events  created,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  long-threatened  and  gloomily-apprehended 
" rising."  On  the  night  of  Monday  the  4th  or  morning  of 
Tuesday  the  5th  of  March,  1867,  the  Fenian  circles  took  the 
field.  Cork,  Tipperary,  Dublin,  Louth,  Limerick,  Clare, 


INSURRECTION!  363 

and  Waterford  alone  responded  in  any  appreciable  degree  to 
the  revolutionary  summons.  For  two  days  previously  it 
was  little  secret  that  the  event  was  at  hand.  Young  men 
took  leave  of  friends ;  clerks  closed  up  their  accounts,  so 
that  no  imputation  on  their  honesty  might  arise ;  and  on 
the  evening  of  Monday  crowds  of  men  between  the  ages  of 
seventeen  and  fifty  were  noticed  thronging  the  churches. 
The  outbreak  was  crushed  in  its  birth.  The  Government, 
through  Corydon,  knew  of  the  most  secret  and  important 
arrangements  beforehand.  The  dismay  and  demoralization 
produced  in  the  insurgent  ranks  by  the  clear  signs  and  proofs 
that  some  one  high  in  position  among  them  must  be  betray- 
ing everything  did  more  than  bullet  or  sword  to  disperse 
and  quell  the  movement.  The  Limerick  Junction  station, 
on  the  Great  Southern  and  Western  Kailway,  was  recognized 
as  a  point  of  considerable  strategic  importance ;  and  as  it 
was  in  the  heart  of  the  most  disaffected  district  in  Ireland — 
Tipperary,  Cork,  and  Limerick — it  offered  great  advantages 
as  the  center  of  operations  in  the  South.  Brigadier-General 
Massey  was  appointed  to  take  command  of  the  insurrection 
at  this  point.  He  had  been  awaiting  in  Cork  the  signal  for 
action.  On  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  March  he  took  his 
place  in  the  up  mail  train  and  reached  the  junction  about 
twelve  o'clock.  As  he  stepped  out  of  the  railway-carriage 
he  found  himself  in  the  grasp  of  four  detectives,  as  many 
loaded  revolvers  being  pointed  at  his  head.  He  gave  one 
hurried  glance  around,  and  saw  that  the  platform  was  occu- 
pied by  military  under  arms.  Then  this  man  who  had  faced 
death  a  hundred  times  amidst  the  carnage  of  the  American 
civil  war  fell  senseless  in  a  swoon !  In  a  few  moments  he 
was  hurried  off  to  Dublin  under  a  strong  guard,  the  author- 
ities being  fully  aware  of  the  value  of  their  capture.*  This 

*  Great  was  the  astonishment  of  every  one  when  a  few  weeks  subse- 
quently it  was  told  that  General  Massey  had  turned  Queen's  evidence. 
In  a  sense  he  had  ;  but  he  was  no  spy  who  remained  in  ranks  he 
meant  to  betray.  His  story  is  that,  finding  some  one  of  five  men  who 


364  NEW  IRELAND. 

stroke  practically  disposed  of  the  South  of  Ireland.  Ere 
morning  the  news  had  spread  that  the  position  on  which 
the  numerous  local  bodies  were  to  converge  was  occupied  by 
Government  troops,  horse,  foot,  and  artillery ;  worse  still, 
that  General  Massey  was  a  prisoner  and  by  this  time  filled 
a  dungeon  in  Dublin  Castle.  The  effect  was  what  might  be 
expected.  Mustering  groups  broke  up  ;  bodies  on  their  way 
to  the  rendezvous  turned  back  and  sought  home  again.  In 
Kilmallock,  county  Limerick,  a  serious  conflict  took  place. 
An  armed  band,  numbering  about  two  hundred  men,  took 
possession  of  the  town,  the  police  retreating  to  their  bar- 
racks,— a  strong  building,  well  able  to  stand  a  siege.  While 
one  party  of  the  insurgents  kept  up  a  brisk  fire  on  the  bar- 
racks, another  proceeded  through  the  town,  and  searching 
every  house  seized  all  the  arms  that  could  be  found.  A  cir- 
cumstance ever  since  remembered  to  their  credit  in  the  lo- 
cality deserves  notice.  There  were  two  banks  in  the  place, 
each  containing  a  large  sum  of  money  in  gold,  silver,  and 
notes ;  yet,  although  any  guns  or  pistols  on  the  bank  premises 
were  brought  away,  not  a  penny  of  the  money  was  touched. 
In  fact,  private  property  was  most  scrupulously  respected,  al- 
though the  town  was  for  a  time  completely  in  their  hands.  * 
About  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  a  party  of  armed  constab- 
ulary from  Kilfinane  arrived  unexpectedly  on  the  rear  of  the 
assailants  at  the  barracks,  and  quickly  compelled  them  to  fly. 
In  this  affray  several  lives  were  lost.  The  police,  being 
under  cover,  escaped  with  scarcely  any  casualty.  The  mana- 
ger of  one  of  the  banks,  who  it  was  said  drew  a  revolver  on 
the  rebel  captain,  was  fired  at  and  wounded  by  the  latter. 
One  of  the  insurgents  who  was  killed  was  utterly  unknown 

held  the  whole  conspiracy  in  their  hands  (he  did  not  then  know  it  was 
Cory  don)  was  evidently  betraying  it,  he,  pondering  the  case  in  his  cell, 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  sooner  the  whole  business  was  burst 
up  and  stopped  the  less  victims  would  there  be. 

*  A  sum  of  ten  pounds  found  in  a  letter  seized  on  a  captured  police 
orderly  was  "  confiscated,"  the  distinction  being  evidently  drawn  be- 
tween what  they  considered  Government  money  and  private  funds. 


INSURRECTION!  365 

in  the  neighborhood;  and  the  people  subsequently  raised 
over  his  grave  "a  stone  without  a  name."  This  lamentable 
encounter  at  Kilmallock  was  persisted  in  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  news  of  the  disaster  at  the  Junction  had  caused 
numbers  of  the  insurgents  to  disperse.  The  truth  is,  the 
arrest  on  the  previous  evening  of  Mr.  W.  H.  O'Sullivau 
(now  senior  member  of  Parliament  for  Limerick),  one  of 
the  most  popular  men  in  that  district,  had  caused  strong  in- 
dignation and  excitement  among  the  people.  He  was  be- 
lieved to  be  unconnected  with  the  Fenian  society,  and  his 
arrest  was  regarded  as  an  act  of  wanton  and  arbitrary  severity. 
But  for  the  exasperation  arising  out  of  this  incident,  it  was 
thought  by  many  Kilmallock  might  have  been  spared  the 
painfully  prominent  part  it  played  in  the  "rising"  of  '67. 

In  the  metropolis  the  attempt  at  insurrection  was  an  utter 
failure.  From  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  until  an  hour 
before  midnight,  bodies  of  men,  young  and  old,  streamed 
out  of  the  city  by  all  its  southern  outlets.  The  residents 
along  the  several  routes  in  many  cases  stood  at  the  doors 
watching  the  throng  go  by,  and  vainly  asking  what  it  was 
all  about.  Of  course  the  police  and  the  Government  knew ; 
and  such  non-Fenian  civilians  as  also  happened  to  divine 
what  was  afoot  marveled  greatly  to  note  that  the  police  in 
no  way  interfered  with  the  intending  insurgents.  It  after- 
ward transpired  that  Sir  Hugh  Rose,  commander-in-chief, 
gave  the  word  to  let  all  who  would  go  out,  and  he  would 
take  care  how  they  got  in.  That  is  to  say,  he  preferred  to 
deal  with  the  difficulty  in  the  open,  and  not  in  the  streets  of 
a  crowded  city.  A  place  called  Tallaght,  about  four  or  five 
miles  due  south  of  Dublin,  and  lying  at  the  base  of  a  chain 
of  mountains  stretching  into  Wicklow,  Kildare,  and  Carlow, 
was  named  as  the  rebel  rendezvous,  General  Halpin  being 
in  command.  The  very  simple  expedient  of  preventing  any 
assemblage  at  all — of  receiving  the  first  comers  with  a  deadly 
volley,  and  causing  all  others  approaching  to  know  that  the 
gathering  was  already  disastrously  dispersed — very  effectu- 


3GG  NEW  IRELAND. 

ally  disposed  of  the  insurgent  plan.  It  was  a  most  complete 
collapse.  Not  one-fourth  of  the  number  who  set  out  for  the 
place  ever  reached  Tallaght  at  all.  Had  they  once  got 
together,  no  doubt  a  severe  struggle  and  a  deplorable  loss 
of  life  might  have  resulted.  Happily  only  two  men  were 
killed,  and  a  dozen  or  more  wounded.  A  party  marching 
from  Kingstown  captured  the  police  barracks  at  Stepaside 
and  Glencullen,  disarming  the  policemen,  but  offering  them 
no  further  harm.  This  band,  like  all  the  others,  on  arriving 
near  Tallaght,  met  fugitive  groups  announcing  that  all  was 
over.  By  a  little  after  midnight  further  attempt  was  uni- 
versally abandoned.  Of  the  two  or  three  thousand  men  who 
had  quitted  Dublin  in  the  evening,  hundreds  were  arrested 
on  the  canal  bridges,  whereby  alone  they  could  re-enter  the 
city,  while  others,  scattering  through  the  hills,  endeavoring 
to  escape  by  way  of  Kildare  or  Wicklow,  were  pursued  in 
all  directions  by  the  royal  lancers  and  dragoons. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Cork  city  the  rising  attained  to  its 
most  formidable  dimensions,  if  indeed  it  could  have  been  said 
to  be  formidable  even  for  a  moment  anywhere.  At  Midle- 
ton,  Castlemartyr,  Ballyknockane,  and  other  places,  the  police 
barracks  were  attacked.  In  most  cases  the  police,  defending 
themselves  with  great  courage  against  what  for  aught  they 
knew  might  have  been  overwhelming  forces,  put  their  assail- 
ants to  flight.  In  some  instances,  however,  the  insurgents 
were  successful,  and  again  it  is  to  be  noted  that  they  used 
their  brief  hour  of  triumph  humanely  and  honorably.  At 
Ballyknockane,  where  the  celebrated  Captain  Mackay  was 
in  command,  they  surrounded  the  barrack  and  demanded  its 
surrender  in  the  name  of  the  Irish  Eepublic.  "The  police 
fired,"  says  a  trustworthy  account,  "  and  the  fire  was  returned. 
Then  the  insurgents  broke  in  the  door  and  set  fire  to  the 
lower  part  of  the  barrack.  Still  the  police  held  out.  '  Sur- 
render ! '  cried  the  insurgents  :  '  you  want  to  commit  suicide, 
but  we  don't  want  to  commit  murder.'  One  of  the  policemen 
then  cried  out  that  a  little  girl,  his  daughter,  was  inside,  and 


INSURRECTION!  367 

asked  if  the  attacking  party  would  allow  her  to  be  passed 
out.  Of  course  they  would,  gladly ;  and  the  little  girl  was 
taken  out  of  the  window  with  all  tenderness,  and  given  up 
to  her  mother,  who  had  chanced  to  be  outside  the  barrack 
when  the  attack  commenced.  At  this  time  a  Catholic  clergy- 
man, the  Rev.  Mr.  Neville,  came  on  the  spot.  He  asked  the 
insurgent  leader  whether,  if  the  police  surrendered,  any  harm 
would  be  done  to  them.  '  Here  is  my  revolver,'  said  Captain 
Mackay  :  '  let  the  contents  of  it  be  put  through  me  if  one  of 
them  should  be  injured.' " 

Tipperary  was  bound  to  be  in  the  front  if  fighting  was- 
going  on.  General  T.  F.  Burke  was  commander  here.  But 
in  Tipperary  the  story  was  the  same  as  in  Dublin,  in  Limer- 
ick, in  Cork,  and  in  Drogheda.  The  insurgents  were  utterly 
destitute  of  armament  or  equipment  that  could  enable  them 
for  a  moment  to  withstand  disciplined  forces.  Courage,  for- 
titude, endurance,  the  hapless  people  indubitably  displayed ; 
but  as  to  preparation  or  resource,  a  more  lunatic  attempt  at 
revolution  the  world  never  saw. 

I  have  so  far  attributed  the  easy  quelling  of  this  insurrec- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  Government,  through  their  spies, 
were  virtually  behind  the  scenes,  and  were  able  to  anticipate 
and  check  every  move  of  their  foes.  But  it  is  a  public  fact, 
very  singular  in  its  nature,  that  the  elements,  in  a  large  de- 
gree, contributed  to  this  result, — a  circumstance  universally 
remarked  upon  at  the  time.  On  the  evening  of  the  5th  of 
March  there  set  in  all  over  Ireland  a  snow-storm  for  which 
there  has  been  no  parallel  since,  and  was  none  for  half  a  cen- 
tury before.  For  five  days,  with  scarcely  a  moment's  inter- 
mission, from  leaden  skies  the  flakes  came  down,  until  in 
some  places  the  snow  lay  three  and  four  feet  deep.  Roads 
were  impassable,  and  on  the  mountains  a  Siberian  spectacle 
met  the  view.  The  troops  on  service  suffered  severely ; 
cavalry  horses  perished  in  numbers.  But,  after  all,  the 
troops  had  safe  and  comfortable  barracks  or  billets  to  rest  in 
at  night ;  whereas  a  guerilla  warfare,  involving  life  on  the 


368  NEW  IRELAND. 

imsheltered  hill-side,  was  the  main  reliance  of  the  insur- 
gents. There  was  no  attempting  to  cope  with  this  fearful 
down-pour,  accompanied  as  it  was  by  a  piercing  hurricane. 
Jubilant  after-dinner  citizens  in  Dublin,  reclining  before  a 
blazing  fire,  rubbed  their  hands  and  recalled  how  in  the  days 
of  Philip's  Armada  and  Hoche's  expedition  the  heavens 
themselves  fortunately  seemed  to  fight  on  the  side  of  Eng- 
land. 

News  of  the  rising  was  flashed  by  Atlantic  cable  to  Amer- 
ica, and  as  that  wonderful  wire  never  minimizes  a  sensation, 
the  American  papers  teemed  with  accounts  unbridled  in 
their  exaggeration  and  extravagance.  Ireland  was  in  arms  ! 
Nearly  the  whole  of  the  southern  province  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  insurgents!  The  smoke  of  battle  clouded  every 
Irish  hill!  The  red  cross  of  St.  George  still  flew  over 
Dublin  Castle,  but  elsewhere,  east  and  west,  it  was  sorely 


Notwithstanding  the  sickening  disheartenment  which  pre- 
vious Fenian  attempts  and  failures  had  produced,  the  Irish 
millions  in  the  States  were  filled  with  excitement  and  sym- 
pathy. Wise  friends  cried  out  to  "  Wait  a  week."  A  fort- 
night's later  news  toned  down  the  telegraphic  story  a  good 
deal :  still  there  were  hearts  bounding  for  the  fray,  beyond 
all  possibility  of  restraint. 

On  the  12th  of  April,  1867,  there  lay  off  Sandy  Hook  a 
brigantine  of  about  two  hundred  tons  burden,  loaded  and 
ready  to  put  to  sea.  The  freight  she  had  received  consisted 
of  "pianos,"  "sewing-machines,"  and  "wine  in  casks:" 
at  least  piano-cases,  sewing-machine-cases,  and  wine-barrels 
filled  her  hold.  The  goods  were  all  directed  and  consigned 
to  a  merchant  firm  in  Cuba.  This  was  the  good  ship 
"  Jacknell,"  well  known  in  the  West  India  trade,  and  flying 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  at  her  main.  On  the  date  above  men- 
tioned a  party  of  forty  or  fifty  men,  almost  all  of  whom  had 
been  officers  or  privates  in  the  American  army,  got  on  board 
a  small  steamer  at  one  of  the  New  York  wharves  and  started 


INSURRECTION!  369 

as  if  for  a  trip  down  the  bay.  They  carried  no  luggage  what- 
ever, and  there  was  nothing  about  their  movements  to  excite 
particular  attention.  They  reached  Sandy  Hook,  and 
rounded  to  under  the  stern  of  the  "Jacknell."  The  "ex- 
cursionists "  boarded  her,  and  the  steamer  returned  without 
them  to  New  York.  That  night  the  "Jacknell"  set  sail, 
steering  toward  the  "West  Indies.  Her  real  destination  was 
Ireland  ;  her  errand  to  assist  the  insurrection.  The  piano- 
cases  held  no  pianos ;  the  barrels  contained  no  wine ;  but 
deftly  packed  in  them  were  five  thousand  stand  of  arms, 
three  pieces  of  field-artillery,  and  two  hundred  thousand 
cartridges.  The  party  consisted  of  General  J.  E.  Kerrigan, 
Colonel  S.  E.  Tresilian,  Colonel  John  Warren,  Colonel  Na- 
gle,  Lieutenant  Augustine  E.  Costello,  Captain  Kavanagh, 
and  a  number  of  others.  Having  steered  for  twenty-four 
hours  to  the  southward,  they  changed  their  course  and 
headed  for  Ireland.  On  the  29th  of  April,  being  Easter 
Sunday,  sealed  orders  were  opened,  commissions  were  dis- 
tributed, the  Irish  Sunburst*  was  hoisted  and  hailed  with  a  sal- 
ute from  their  three  field-pieces,  the  vessel's  name  was  changed 
to  the  "Erin's  Hope,"  and  all  on  board  kept  high  festival. 
An  astonishing  enterprise  it  was,  truly,  to  set  out  across  the 
Atlantic  in  this  little  brigantine  for  a  hostile  landing  on  the 
Irish  coast,  watched  as  it  was  at  every  point  by  cruisers  on 
the  sea  and  coast-guard  sentinels  on  shore  !  Their  destina- 
tion was  Sligo  Bay,  which  they  reached  on  the  20th  of  May. 
They  stood  on  and  off  for  a  day  or  two,  until  they  were 
boarded  by  an  agent  from  their  friends  on  shore  !  His  ac- 
count of  the  true  state  of  affairs  widely  contrasted  with  the 
flaming  telegrams  of  the  New  York  Herald  that  had  hur- 
ried them  on  this  mission.  A  landing  in  Sligo  he  told  them 
was  impossible,  but  they  were,  he  said,  to  make  an  effort  to 
get  the  arms  and  ammunition  on  shore  somewhere  on  the 

*  The  ancient  Irish  war-banner, — a  golden  sun-blaze  on  a  green 
standard. 

16* 


370  NEW  IRELAND. 

southern  coast.  Meantime,  intelligence  had  reached  the 
Government  that  a  suspicious-looking  craft  was  hovering  off 
the  western  harbors.  Quickly  the  Queenstown  and  Valencia 
gunboats  were  on  the  alert,  and  for  a  fortnight  the  "Erin's 
Hope  "  had  a  perilous  time  of  it  running  the  gauntlet  night 
and  day.  By  this  time  she  had  been  sixty-two  days  at  sea, 
$nd  the  stock  of  water  and  provisions  on  board  was  nearly 
exhausted.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  land  the  bulk 
of  the  party  forthwith,  and  return  to  America  with  as  many 
as  the  rations  would  support  on  the  voyage.  Off  Helvick 
Head,  near  Dungarvan,  they  hailed  a  fishing-boat,  and  when 
she  came  alongside  some  thirty  of  the  party,  to  the  fisher- 
men's great  surprise,  jumped  in.  The  "  Jacknell"  turned 
to  sea,  and  the  boatmen  rowed  the  strangers  on  shore.  Their 
landing  was  observed  by  a  coast-guard  lookout ;  messages 
were  dispatched  to  the  police-stations  around  ;  and  ere  many 
hours  every  man  of  the  "Jacknell"  detachment  was  lodged 
in  a  prison.  All  that  the  Government  really  knew,  how- 
ever, was  that  the  proceeding  was  mysterious  and  suspicious. 
The  men  were  unarmed.  The  Helvick  landing  was  as  yet 
unconnected  with  the  appearance  of  the  vessel  in  Sligo  Bay ; 
and  for  weeks  (during  which  time  the  prisoners  were  care- 
fully guarded  in  Kilmainham  prison)  the  whole  subject  oc- 
casioned the  greatest  perplexity  in  Dublin  Castle.  At  length, 
under  skillful  treatment,  the  reticence  of  one  of  the  captives 
gave  way.  He  disclosed  all  to  the  Government,  and  at  the 
ensuing  commission  the  whole  of  his  companions  stood  in- 
dicted for  treason-felony. 

Two  important  legal  points  were  raised  on  the  trials  which 
ensued.  First,  whether  any  hostile  act  had  been  committed 
within  British  jurisdiction ;  secondly,  whether  American  citi- 
zens of  Irish  birth  would  have  their  American  status  recog- 
nized and  be  allowed  a  mixed  jury.  Colonel  Warren,  a 
native  of  Clonakilty,  in  Cork  County,  but  a  duly-naturalized 
citizen  of  the  United  States,  was  the  first  put  on  his  trial, 
When  the  jury  came  to  be  impaneled,  Mr.  Heron,  Q.C., 


INSURRECTION!  371 

produced  the  prisoner's  naturalization-papers  and  claimed 
for  him  a  jury  mediatate  linguce.  The  presiding  judge  fully 
realized  the  gravity  of  the  point  which  he  was  about  to  de- 
cide ;  but  the  law  as  it  then  stood  was  clear  ;  no  subject  of 
the  British  Crown  could  divest  himself  of  allegiance  ;  and  so 
he  ruled.  An  ordinary  jury  was  sworn,  whereupon — 

Prisoner. — "As  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  I  protest 
against  being  arraigned  at  this  bar." 

The  Chief  Baron. — "We  cannot  hear  any  statement  from 
you  now  ;  your  counsel  will  speak  for  you  if  necessary." 

Prisoner. — "My  citizenship  is  ignored,  and  I  have  in- 
structed my  counsel  to  withdraw.  The  Government  of  the 
United  States  has  now  become  the  principal." 

The  prisoner's  counsel  withdrew,  Colonel  Warren  refusing 
to  make  any  defense.  He  was  convicted,  and  on  Saturday, 
16th  of  November,  1867,  was  sentenced  to  fifteen  years' 
penal  servitude.  His  youthful  comrade,  Lieutenant  Augus- 
tine Costello,  was  next  arraigned.  He  likewise  was  found 
guilty,  and  consigned  to  twelve  years  of  a  similar  punish- 
ment. 

These  proceedings  led  to  one  of  the  most  important  altera- 
tions of  British  law  effected  in  our  time.  The  ancient  and 
fundamental  maxim  of  perpetual  allegiance  had  been  reso- 
lutely held  to  and  maintained  by  England  through  centuries. 
The  American  Government,  on  the  other  hand,  though  it  had 
meanly  abandoned  Colonel  Warren,  found  it  indispensable 
to  vindicate  the. position  he  had  asserted  on  his  trial.  The 
whole  fabric  of  American  power  stood  upon  that  doctrine ; 
and  once  more  England  and  America  were  in  utter  conflict 
upon  its  application.  Happily,  instead  of  resorting  to  the 
arbitrament  of  battle,  as  in  1812,  the  two  Governments  en- 
tered into  active  negotiations  with  a  view  to  adjusting  so 
serious  a  difficulty.  The  United  States  had  nothing  to 
change.  It  was  for  England  to  alter  her  law  of  allegiance  ; 
and  so  she  did.  In  1870,  the  Act  33  and  34  Viet.  cap.  14, 
known  (in  Ireland  at  least)  as  the  "Warren  and  Costello 


372  NEW  IRELAND. 

Act,"  was  passed  through  Parliament ;  and  now  a  British- 
born  subject  may,  by  certain  formalities,  divest  himself  of 
his  birth-allegiance  and  adopt  another  citizenship. 

With  the  close  of  the  "  Jacknell "  trials  we  all  fondly  hoped 
there  was  an  end  of  this  sad  and  weary  work  of  seizures  and 
arrests,  of  outbreaks  and  alarms.  A  mournful  disappoint- 
ment awaited  us. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE  SCAFFOLD  AXD  THE  CELL. 

No  incidents,  probably,  in  the  struggles  of  Irish  disaffec- 
tion within  this  century  more  deeply  incensed  the  English 
people  than  two  which  occurred  toward  the  close  of  1867. 
These  were  the  Manchester  Rescue  and  the  Clerkenwell  Ex- 
plosion. It  is  not  astonishing  that  the  latter  outrage  should 
leave  behind  a  bitter  memory.*  The  slaughter  of  innocent 
citizens,  little  ones  maimed  and  disfigured  for  life,  families 
decimated  and  homes  ruined, — these  are  things  no  mind  can 
calmly  dwell  upon.  Yet  there  is  no  good  end  to  be  served 
by  making  the  crime,  at  best  atrocious,  more  hideous  than 
truth  warrants.  Gross  stupidity  on  the  part  of  a  few  mis- 
erable Irish  laborers, — men  blindly  ignorant  of  the  full 
power  and  reach  of  a  gunpowder-explosion, — not  design  or 
thought  of  hurting  life  or  limb,  was  accountable  for  that 
bloody  scene.  Had  the  man  whose  rescue  was  to  be  accom- 
plished by  "driving  a  hole  through  the  boundary- wall " 
been  inside  at  the  spot  where  his  would-be  liberators  were 
told  he  was  to  be,  he  would  have  been  blown  into  eternity. 
The  consequences  that  resulted  from  their  act — the  effect  of 

*  On  the  13th  of  December,  1867,  a  barrel  containing  gunpowder 
was  exploded  against  the  outer  wall  of  Clerkenwell  Prison,  Lon- 
don, by  Fenian  sympathizers,  with  a  view  of  driving  a  hole  through 
the  wall,  inside  which  at  that  time  a  Fenian  prisoner,  named  Burke, 
was  expected  to  be  exercising.  The  whole  of  the  wall  for  sixty  yards 
was  blown  in  with  a  fearful  crash.  Some  tenement-houses  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  inhabited  by  very  poor  people,  were  demol- 
ished, twelve  persons  being  killed  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  maimed 
or  wounded, 

373 


374  NEW  IRELAND. 

that  explosion  on  the  neighboring  dwellings — never  once 
crossed  the  imaginations  of  the  wretched  perpetrators.  Yet 
even  when  so  much  is  said  for  truth  and  justice,  the  affair 
is  one  from  which  a  sensitive  mind  recoils,  and  anything 
like  exciise  of  which  were  almost  criminal. 

The  Manchester  Kescue,  however,  though  classed  in  the 
same  category, — "the  murder  of  Sergeant  Brett,"  as  it  is 
called  by  most  Englishmen, — was  of  wholly  different  com- 
plexion. That  the  life  of  Sergeant  Brett  was  lost  on  that 
occasion  is  most  true  and  most  lamentable.  That  it  was  lost 
by  misadventure,  not  sacrificed  by  design,  those  best  quali- 
fied to  know  assert,  and  the  Irish  people  fervently  believe. 
That  three  lives  were  offered  up  on  the  scaffold  to  avenge 
that  one,  is  a  fact  on  public  record. 

On  the  fall  or  deposition  of  James  Stephens  from  the 
leadership  of  the  Fenian  party,  his  place  was  taken  by  Colo- 
nel Thomas  J.  Kelly.  He  it  was  who,  after  the  arrests  at 
Fairfield  House,  assumed  the  command  of  Fenian  affairs  in 
Ireland.  He,  moreover,  planned,  directed,  and  personally 
superintended  the  rescue  of  Stephens  from  Richmond,  and 
his  subsequent  escape  to  France.  After  the  rising  of  March, 
1867,  Kelly  remained  some  six  months  or  more  in  Dublin, 
and  toward  the  close  of  October  crossed  to  Manchester,  to 
attend  a  council  of  the  English  "centers."  Shortly  before 
daybreak  on  the  morning  of  the  llth  of  September,  police- 
men on  duty  in  Oak  Street,  Manchester,  noticed  four  men 
loitering  suspiciously  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  ready-made- 
clothing  shop.  From  expressions  which  they  overheard, 
the  police  concluded  that  these  men  were  bent  on  some 
illegal  purpose,  and  attempted  to  arrest  them.  In  the  strug- 
gle which  ensued,  two  of  the  suspects  escaped.  The  remain- 
ing two  were  brought  next  day  before  the  magistrates,  but 
nothing  could  be  proved  against  them.  They  gave  the  names 
of  Williams  and  White  respectively,  said  they  were  American 
citizens,  and  claimed  their  discharge.  The  magistrate  was 
about  to  sentence  them,  under  the  Vagrancy  Act,  to  two  or 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  375 

three  days'  imprisonment,  when  one  of  the  detective  force  ap- 
plied for  a  week's  remand,  as  he  suspected  the  prisoners  might 
have  some  connection  with  Fenianism.  The  application  was 
granted  ;  and  ere  nightfall  it  was  known  by  the  police  that  in 
"Williams"  and  "White"  they  held  in  their  grasp  Colonel 
Kelly,  the  Fenian  leader,  and  Captain  Deasy,  his  assistant. 

The  arrests  caused  great  commotion  among  the  Fenian 
circles  of  Manchester  and  surrounding  towns.  Secret  coun- 
cils were  held,  and,  after  much  deliberation,  the  desperate 
resolve  was  taken  to  intercept  the  van  conveying  the  prisoners 
from  the  court,  to  overpower  the  guard,  and  liberate  the 
Fenian  chiefs.  On  Wednesday,  the  18th  of  September,  the 
prisoners  were  again  brought  up,  duly  identified  as  Kelly  and 
Deasy,  and  once  more  remanded.  Before  they  had  left  the 
court,  telegrams  reached  it  from  Dublin  Castle  and  the  Home 
Office,  London,  warning  the  Manchester  authorities  that  a 
plot  was  on  foot  for  the  rescue  of  the  prisoners.  The  warn- 
ing, if  not  derided,  was  doubted.  The  magistrates,  however, 
knowing  that  these  men  had  numerous  adherents  in  Manches- 
ter, thought  it  might  be  wise  to  take  some  precautions.  Kelly 
and  Deasy  were  handcuffed  and  locked  in  separate  compart- 
ments in  the  van ;  and  twelve  policemen,  instead  of  three, 
the  usual  guard,  were  ordered  to  accompany  it.  Five  sat  on 
the  broad  box-seat,  two  on  the  step  behind,  and  four  followed 
in  a  cab  ;  one,  Sergeant  Brett,  sat  within  the  van.  The  pris- 
oners in  the  vehicle  besides  the  two  Fenian  leaders  were  three 
women  and  a  boy  aged  twelve.  At  half  past  three  the  van 
drove  off  for  the  county  jail  at  Salford,  distant  about  two 
miles.  Under  the  railway  arch  which  spans  Hyde  Road  at 
Bellevue  a  man  darted  into  the  middle  of  the  road,  raised  a 
pistol,  and  shouted  to  the  drivers  to  pull  up.  At  the  same 
moment  a  party  of  about  thirty  men,  powerfully  built,  and 
armed  with  revolvers,  sprang  over  the  wall  beside  the  road, 
surrounded  the  van,  and  seized  the  horses,  one  of  which  they 
shot.  The  police,  being  unarmed,  made  little  resistance,  and 
speedily  took  to  flight.  The  rescuers  produced  hatchets,  ham- 


376  NEW  IBELAND. 

mers,  and  crow-bars,  with  which  they  sought  to  hew  or  burst 
open  the  van.  It  was  slower  work  than  they  imagined,  and 
soon  the  police  returned  accompanied  by  a  considerable  crowd. 
Some  twenty  of  the  rescuing  party  formed  a  ring  around  the 
van,  and  with  pistols  pointed  kept  back  the  policemen  and  the 
crowd,  over  whose  head  shots  were  fired  from  time  to  time, 
while  the  others  continued  their  endeavors  to  force  the  van. 
They  shouted  to  Brett,  through  a  ventilator  over  the  door,  if 
he  had  the  keys  to  give  them  up.  He  could  not  see  what 
was  taking  place  outside,  but  at  the  very  first  he  divined  the 
nature  of  the  attack.  With  devoted  fidelity  and  courage,  he 
refused  to  surrender  the  keys.  Anxious  to  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  the  assailing  party,  he  stooped  and  looked  out  through  the 
keyhole.  The  voice  of  some  one  in  command  outside  almost  at 
the  same  moment  cried  out,  "  Blow  it  open  ;  put  your  pistol 
to  the  keyhole  and  blow  it  open! "  The  muzzle  of  a  revolver 
was  put  to  the  keyhole,  and  the  trigger  pulled.  Brett  in- 
side fell  mortally  wounded.  The  female  prisoners,  screaming 
loudly,  cried,  "  He's  killed  !"  and  lifted  him  up.  Again  a 
voice  at  the  ventilator  was  heard  demanding  the  keys,  which 
one  of  the  women  took  from  Brett's  pocket  and  handed  out. 
Then  "a  pale-faced  young  man"  entered  the  van,  unlocked 
the  compartments  in  which  Kelly  and  Deasy  were  secured, 
and  brought  them  out.  The  rescued  prisoners  were  hurried 
away  across  the  fields  by  one  or  two  attendants,  the  rescuers 
preventing  pursuit.  Not  until  their  leaders  were  completely 
out  of  sight  did  they  take  thought  of  their  own  safety.  Then 
they  dispersed  in  all  directions.  They  were  pursued  by  the 
policemen  and  the  crowd,  which  had  now  swelled  consider- 
ably. Many  of  them  were  captured,  and  were  severely 
beaten  by  their  infuriate  captors.  One  of  them,  recognized 
as  the  young  man  who  had  entered  the  van  to  liberate  Kelly, 
and  who  was  afterward  identified  as  William  Philip  Allen, 
was  knocked  down  by  a  blow  of  a  brick,  then  kicked  and 
stoned  while  he  lay  on  the  ground.  Several  of  the  prisoners 
when  brought  into  town  were  streaming  with  blood,  from 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  377 

violence  done  them  in  tliis  way  during  or  after  capture. 
That  evening  Manchester  was  filled  with  consternation.  The 
story  of  the  rescue,  with  many  exaggerations,  spread  like 
wildfire.  The  people  thronged  the  streets,  discussing  the 
alarming  topic.  The  police,  inflamed  with  passion  and 
wounded  in  pride,  burst  in  strong  bodies  upon  the  Irish 
quarters  of  the  town,  making  wholesale  arrests  in  a  spirit 
of  fury.  The  anger  and  panic  of  Manchester  spread  next 
morning  through  all  broad  Britain.  The  national  pride  was 
wounded,  the  national  safety  invaded  ;  the  national  authority 
had  been  bearded,  defied,  and  for  the  moment  defeated,  by  a 
handful  of  rebel  Irish  in  the  very  heart  of  an  English  city. 
A  roar  went  up  from  all  the  land  for  swift,  condign,  and 
ample  punishment. 

One  cannot  greatly  wonder  now  at  what  then  took  place  in 
England.  Panic  and  passion  reigned  supreme.  Rumors  of 
new  plots  and  attacks  still  more  daring  and  dangerous  filled 
every  city.  Garrisons  were  strengthened  ;  prison-guards  were 
doubled  ;  special  constables  were  sworn  in.  Manchester  and 
the  surrounding  towns,  well  known  to  contain  a  large  Irish 
population,  were  especially  excited,  and  the  Irish  in  those 
places  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  In  the  midst  of  such  a  storm 
of  anger,  alarm,  and  passion,  a  Special  Commission  was  issued 
for  the  trial  of  the  Rescue  prisoners.  We  in  Ireland  saw  at 
once  that  this  was  doom  for  those  men,  innocent  or  guilty, 
— that  a  fair,  calm,  dispassionate  trial  at  such  a  moment  was 
out  of  the  question.  Heart-rending  appeals  reached  us  from 
the  families  of  men  absolutely  innocent  of  any  knowledge 
of  the  outrage,  but  who  had  been  arrested  by  the  police  in 
the  swoop  on  Irish  homes  which  set  in  for  days  subsequently. 
Hope  of  justice  there  was  little  or  none  ;  for  in  the  prevail- 
ing temper  of  the  English  mind  "blood  for  blood"  was  the 
cry  on  all  hands.  Many  circumstances  corroborated  these 
fears.  When  the  prisoners  were  brought  before  the  magis- 
trates for  committal,  on  the  25th  of  October,  they  were  put 
to  the  bar  in  irons.  Such  a  sight  had  not  been  seen  in  an 


378  NEW  IRELAND. 

English  court  of  justice  for  many  a  year.  Mr.  Jones,  as  an 
Englishman,  and  as  counsel  for  the  prisoners,  indignantly 
protested  against  it.  The  bench  decided  that  the  handcuffs 
should  be  retained,  and  the  audience  burst  into  applause. 
Mr.  Jones  flung  down  his  brief  and  quitted  the  court ;  the 
junior  counsel  for  the  accused,  however,  remained. 

On  Monday  the  28th  of  October,  William  Philip  Allen, 
Michael  Larkin,  Thomas  Maguire,  Michael  O'Brien  (alias 
Gould),  and  Edward  Condon  (alias  Shore),  were  arraigned 
for  the  willful  murder  of  Sergeant  Brett.  That  the  men  who 
really  belonged  to  that  rescuing  party  were  legally  guilty  of 
constructive  murder,  no  matter  which  one  of  them  fired  the 
shot  by  which  Brett  fell,  is  plain  and '  clear  to  any  one  ac- 
quainted with  the  simplest  principles  of  law.  But  the  moral 
guilt,  heavy  enough  in  any  case,  would  be  very  different  if, 
instead  of  mischance,  cold-blooded  design  had  led  to  Brett's 
murder.  The  Crown  alleged  that  he  was  deliberately  aimed 
at  and  shot  through  the  open  ventilator  over  the  van  door. 
The  principal  if  not  the  only  evidence  supporting  this  theory 
was  that  of  a  disreputable  female  thief  who  was  in  the  van 
on  the  way  to  her  third  term  of  imprisonment  for  robbery. 
The  solemn  assertion  of  men  who  were  present  is  that  Brett 
was  shot  by  the  bullet  which  entered  through  the  keyhole,  as 
he  was  turning  away  after  glancing  at  the  scene  outside.  The 
evidence  on  the  trial,  especially  as  to  identification,  was  of 
a  wild  and  reckless  character,  as  the  Government  afterward 
discovered.  The  five  men  were  nevertheless  found  guilty. 
They  were  arraigned  and  tried  together  on  the  one  indict- 
ment, and  were  convicted  on  the  one  trial,  in  the  one  verdict, 
— a  point  upon  which  much  subsequently  turned.  They 
were,  all  five,  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  the  23d  of  Novem- 
ber. Before  sentence  they  each  addressed  the  court.  In 
calmer  mood  Englishmen  themselves  would  own  the  force  of 
the  protests  they  raised  against  what  they  called  "the  rotten 
evidence  "  and  "the  panic  passion  "  of  their  trial.  They  all 
deplored  earnestly  the  death  of  Brett.  Some  of  them  vehe- 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  379 

mently  denied  that  they  were  even  present  at  the  affray. 
"  No  man  in  this  court,"  said  Allen,  "  regrets  the  death  of 
Sergeant  Brett  more  than  I  do,  and  I  positively  say,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Almighty  and  ever-living  God,  that  I  am 
innocent, — ay,  as  innocent  as  any  man  in  this  court.  I  don't 
say  this  for  the  sake  of  mercy  :  I  want  no  mercy ;  I'll  have 
no  mercy.  I'll  die,  as  many  thousands  have  died,  for  the 
sake  of  their  beloved  land,  and  in  defense  of  it."  Maguire 
denounced  the  reckless  swearing  of  the  witnesses ;  said  he 
had  served  the  Queen  faithfully  as  a  marine,  was  loyal  to  her 
still,  and  bore  a  high  character  from  his  commanding  officer. 
Condon  was  the  last  to  speak.  He  solemnly  asseverated,  as 
a  dying  man,  that  he  was  not  even  present  at  the  rescue.  "I 
do  not  accuse  the  jury,"  he  said,  "  but  I  believe  they  were 
prejudiced.  I  don't  accuse  them  of  willfully  wishing  to  con- 
vict, but  prejudice  has  induced  them  to  convict  when  they 
otherwise  would  not  have  done.  We  have  been  found  guilty, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  we  accept  our  death.  We  are  not 
afraid  to  die:  at  least  I  am  not."  "Nor  I,"  "Nor  I," 
broke  from  the  others  all.  He  went  on, — 

"  I  only  trust  that  those  who  are  to  be  tried  after  us  will  have  a  fair 
trial,  and  that  our  blood  will  satisfy  the  craving  which  I  understand 
exists.  You  will  soon  send  us  before  God,  and  I  am  perfectly  prepared 
to  go.  I  have  nothing  to  regret,  or  to  retract,  or  take  back.  I  can 
only  say,  '  GOD  SAVE  IRELAND.'  " 

As  he  spoke  these  words,  his  companions,  with  one  step, 
simultaneously  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  dock,  and,  lift- 
ing their  faces  and  extending  their  hands  upward,  cried  out 
earnestly,  "  God  save  Ireland  !"  That  exclamation  has  since 
been  made  a  national  watchword  in  Ireland. 

Before  many  days  had  followed  the  trial,  a  feeling  began 
to  be  entertained  in  England  that  it  was  of  dubious  char- 
acter, and  that  the  correctness  of  the  verdict  was  open  to 
grave  question.  The  newspaper  reporters  who  had  attended 
on  behalf  of  the  London  and  provincial  press  felt  this  so 


380  NEW  IRELAND. 

strongly  as  to  Maguire  that  they  adopted  the  unusual  course 
of  sending  to  the  Home  Office  a  document  declaring  their 
deep  conviction  that  the  evidence  and  verdict  were  utterly 
wrong  as  regards  him.  After  some  days  spent  in  inquiry, 
the  Government  admitted  the  truth  of  this  startling  im- 
peachment, and  pardoned  Maguire.  Friends  of  humanity 
and  justice  among  the  English  people  now  took  courage  and 
spoke  out.  They  said  that  on  evidence  and  a  verdict  thus 
confessed  to  he  tainted  and  untenable  it  would  be  monstrous 
to  take  human  life.  Let  the  prisoners,  they  said,  be  pun- 
ished as  heavily  as  may  be,  short  of  taking  life,  impossible 
to  be  restored  if  hereafter  error  be  discovered.  Soon  news 
was  published  that  Condon  was  reprieved  pending  further 
consideration.  The  general  conviction  now  spread  that  a 
like  announcement  was  at  hand  as  to  the  others, — a  result 
attributed  to  the  exertions  of  courageous  and  philanthropic 
Englishmen  in  Manchester  and  London.  In  Ireland,  where 
the  whole  proceedings  were  followed  with  absorbing  interest, 
a  like  conclusion  was  very  widely  entertained.  Still,  it  was 
evident  that  a  powerful  section  of  English  public  opinion 
demanded  a  sacrifice.  The  pardon  of  Maguire,  the  reprieve 
of  Condon,  were  called  lamentable  exhibitions  of  weakness 
and  vacillation.  If  disaffection  and  assassination  were  not 
to  have  a  triumph,  if  life  and  property  were  to  be  protected, 
law  and  order  asserted  and  avenged,  these  men  must  hang 
upon  the  gallows-tree. 

These  views  prevailed. 

In  anticipation  of  the  event  at  hand,  the  Government  or- 
dered large  bodies  of  troops  to  the  cities  and  towns  through- 
out England  where  a  dangerous  Irish  element  was  supposed 
to  exist.  Manchester,  as  was  observed  at  the  time,  resembled 
a  place  besieged.  Special  constables  were  enrolled  in  large 
numbers,  and  military  occupied  all  the  positions  deemed 
strategically  important  in  and  around  the  jail.  Early  on  the 
evening  of  the  22d,  a  crowd  commenced  to  assemble  outside 
the  prison-wall.  Their  conduct  throughout  the  night  was 


TEE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  381 

very  bad  ;  several  times  the  jail  authorities  caused  them  to 
be  removed,  as  their  shouts,  yells,  and  songs  of  triumph 
disturbed  the  doomed  men  inside  preparing  for  eternity. 
"  Breakdown  dances  "  were  performed,  and  comic  songs  were 
varied  with  verses  of  "God  Save  the  Queen"  or  "Rule 
Britannia,"  for  the  "Fenian  Murderers"  inside  to  hear. 
The  last  evening  of  their  lives  happily  was  solaced  by  the  re- 
ceipt of  a  letter,  couched  in  kindly  and  touching  words, 
and  inclosing  one  hundred  pounds  "  for  the  families  they 
would  leave  behind,"  from  the  Dowager  Marchioness  of 
Queensberry.  "From  the  first,"  says  a  published  account, 
"the  prisoners  exhibited  a  deep,  fervid,  religious  spirit 
which  could  scarcely  have  been  surpassed." 

In  the  cold  gray  morning  of  the  23d  of  November,  1867, 
Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien  were  led  out  to  die.  Such  a 
concourse  had  never  before  attended  a  Manchester  execution 
as  thronged  around  the  jail.  Long  files  of  bayonets  reached 
on  all  sides.  A  temporary  platform  ran  some  length  at  each 
end  of  the  scaffold,  but  inside  the  prison-wall,  and  was  occu- 
pied by  detachments  of  the  72d  Highlanders,  who  stooped 
behind  the  masonry,  with  the  muzzles  of  the  loaded  rifles 
resting  on  the  top.  Even  the  savage  crowd  hushed  for  a  mo- 
ment at  the  death-bell's  toll,  and  soon  the  condemned  ap- 
peared. Allen  came  first.  He  was  deadly  pale,  but  walked 
with  firm  and  steady  tread.  Next  came  Larkin,  greatly 
overcome,  and  trembling  with  emotion.  Last  stepped  forth 
O'Brien,  whose  firm  and  dignified  bearing  was  the  admira- 
tion of  all  who  beheld  him.  Before  he  was  placed  upon  the 
trap  he  moved  to  where  his  two  comrades  stood  capped  and 
pinioned,  with  fatal  cord  around  each  neck,  and  kissed  them 
lovingly.  They  were  greatly  affected,  and  all  three  em- 
braced one  another  tenderly.  The  bolt  was  drawn  ;  the 
three  bodies  fell,  struggled  convulsively  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  all  was  over. 

"When  on  that  Saturday  morning  the  news  was  flashed  to 
Ireland,  "  Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien  were  hanged  at  eight 


382  NEW  IRELAND. 

o'clock  in  front  of  Salford  jail,"  surprise,  dismay,  grief,  and 
rage  filled  every  breast.  Men  gasped,  astounded,  and  asked 
could  this  dreadful  tale  be  true.  Others,  more  violently 
moved,  went  about  with  flushed  cheek  and  darkened  brow, 
clenching  their  teeth  in  silent  passion.  Men  who  even  up  to 
this  period  had  been  more  or  less  in  conflict  with  Fenianism 
were  overpowered  by  this  blow.  For  what,  they  asked,  was 
this  deed  in  Manchester  but  an  act  of  political  vengeance, 
another  cruel  tragedy  in  the  long  struggle  between  Irish  re- 
volt and  English  power  ?  In  the  afternoon  came  fuller  ac- 
counts of  the  execution,  containing  one  sentence  which  stung 
the  Irish  people  most  keenly  :  "  The  bodies  of  the  three  mur- 
derers ivere  buried  in  quicklime  in  unconsecrated  ground 
within  the  jail. "  Murderers,  indeed  !  Buried  in  quicklime  !  * 
Here  was  a  stroke  which  went  home, — a  barbed  and  poisoned 
arrow  that  pierced  the  heart  of  Ireland.  This  branding  of 
their  inanimate  bodies  with  infamy,  this  denial  of  Christian 
burial  in  consecrated  earth,  wounded  the  most  sensitive  feel- 
ings of  Irishmen.  Next  day,  Sunday,  the  news  reached  the 
provinces,  and  in  hundreds  of  churches,  at  the  morning  mass, 
the  priest,  his  voice  broken  with  emotion,  asked  the  congre- 
gation to  pray  God's  mercy  on  the  souls  of  the  three  victims. 
The  answer  was  a  wail  of  grief,  and  many  wept  outright 
when  the  story  of  their  execution  was  told.  I  never  knew 
Ireland  to  be  more  deeply  moved  by  mingled  feelings  of  grief 
and  anger.  It  was  not  the  death  of  the  prisoners  ;  although 
from  what  has  been  stated  their  execution  was  an  utter  sur- 
prise, and  deemed  a  frightful  severity.  When  men,  arms  in 
hand,  attempt  such  a  deed  as  Kelly's  rescue,  they  must  be 
prepared  and  content  to  abide  the  penalty,  though  it  be  death 
itself.  It  was  the  conviction  that  these  men,  innocent  or 
guilty,  had  not  had  a  fair  trial,  that  the  cause  of  Irish  nation- 

*  Of  course  if  the  rescue  was  not  a  political  incident,  and  if  these 
men  were  mere  robbers  and  murderers,  this  was  the  ordinary  course. 
But  to  deny  the  exclusively  political  character  of  the  crime  were 
absurd. 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  383 

ality  was  meant  to  be  struck  at  and  humiliated  in  their  per- 
sons, and,  above  all,  the  attempt  to  class  them  as  vulgar  mur- 
derers, not  political  culprits,  and  to  offer  indignity  to  their 
remains,  that  led  to  the  wondrous  upheaval  of  Irish  feeling 
which  now  startled  the  empire. 

All  over  Ireland  announcements  appeared  that  funeral 
processions  commemorative  of  the  "Manchester  Martyrs" 
would  be  held.  The  selection  of  funeral  displays  rather 
than  public  meetings  marked  exactly  the  peculiar  feature  of 
the  Manchester  proceedings  which  it  was  intended  to  resent. 
Cork  led  the  way  by  announcing  a  monster  demonstration 
for  the  1st  of  December  ;  and  on  that  day  most  of  the  cities 
and  towns  in  the  South  of  Ireland  witnessed  the  singular 
spectacle  of  "funerals  " — hearses,  mourners,  craped  banners, 
and  muffled  drums — where  there  were  no  dead.  The  8th  of 
December  was  fixed  for  the  metropolitan  display,  as  well  as 
for  some  twenty  or  thirty  others  throughout  the  island.  John 
Martin  hurried  up  to  Dublin  to  lead  the  procession  there. 
The  O'Donoghue  was  announced  to  head  the  demonstration 
in  Killarney.  For  the  first  time  during  years  the  distinction 
between  Fenian  and  non-Fenian  Nationalists  seemed  to  dis- 
appear, and  the  national  or  popular  element  came  unitedly 
and  in  full  force  to  the  front.  The  Dublin  procession  was  a 
marvelous  display.  The  day  was  cold,  wet,  and  gloomy ; 
yet  it  was  computed  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  per- 
sons participated  in  the  demonstration,  sixty  thousand  of 
them  marching  in  line  over  a  route  some  three  or  four  miles 
in  length.  As  the  three  hearses,  bearing  the  names  of  the 
executed  men,  passed  through  the  streets,  the  multitudes  that 
lined  the  way  fell  on  their  knees,  every  head  was  bared,  and 
not  a  sound  was  heard  save  the  solemn  notes  of  the  "  Dead 
March  in  Saul  "  from  the  bands,  or  the  sobs  that  burst  occa- 
sionally from  the  crowd.  At  the  cemetery-gate  the  proces- 
sionists formed  into  a  vast  assemblage,  which  was  addressed 
by  Mr.  Martin,  in  feeling  and  forcible  language,  expressive  of 
the  national  sentiment  on  the  Manchester  execution.  At  the 


384  NEW  IRELAND. 

close,  once  more  all  heads  were  bared,  a  prayer  was  offered, 
and  the  mourning  thousands  peacefully  sought  their  homes. 

The  section  of  the  press  that  had  goaded  the  Government 
to  extremities  at  Manchester,  by  demands  for  what  they 
designated  a  policy  of  "vigor,"  now  called  loudly  for  the 
suppression  of  these  funerals  as  "seditious  demonstrations," 
nay,  "  rampant  exhibitions  of  sympathy  with  murder."  On 
the  12th  of  December,  four  days  after  the  Dublin  procession, 
a  viceregal  proclamation  was  issued  declaring  the  funerals  to 
be  illegal,  and  calling  on  all  magistrates  and  peace  officers  to 
suppress  the  same.  Within  two  days  summonses  were  issued 
against  Mr.  John  Martin  and  other  members  of  the  Dublin 
funeral  committee.  The  accused  were  committed  for  trial  at 
the  Commission  to  open  on  the  10th  of  February,  1868,  bail 
being  taken  for  their  appearance.  Twelve  days  subsequently 
a  second  stroke  was  dealt  at  the  leaders  of  the  demonstration  ; 
and  I,  having  marched  at  its  head,  arm-in-arm  with  Mr. 
Martin,  found  myself  now  called  upon  to  take  my  place  by 
his  side  in  the  dock. 

The  Manchester  scene  called  forth  the  stormiest  passion 
and  fiercest  invective  in  the  Irish  national  press.  The  exe- 
cution was  denounced  as  "judicial  murder."  "The  jailer 
and  the  hangman  "  were  declared  to  be  "now  the  twin  guard- 
ians of  British  rule  in  Ireland."  My  own  journals  were 
among  the  most  violent  in  expression  of  the  prevalent  emo-- 
tion.  In  poem,  prose,  and  picture  we  held  up  the  tragic 
deed  as  a  crime,  and  called  upon  the  Irish  people  to  encoun- 
ter the  attempt  to  brand  the  victims  as  "murderers"  with 
demonstrations  of  sorrow  for  their  fate  and  admiration  for 
their  heroism.  Toward  the  close  of  December  rumors  went 
round  that  the  work  of  the  approaching  Commission  was  to 
be  swelled,  not  alone  by  State  trials  for  seditious  funeral  pro- 
cessions, but  by  press  prosecutions  also.  In  the  interval 
between  my  commitment  and  the  opening  of  the  Commission 
business  called  me  to  Paris.  One  night  while  there  I  was 
roused  out  of  bed  by  a  telegram  from  Dublin,  calling  on  me 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  385 

to  start  for  home  instantly,  or  a  warrant  would  be  issued  for 
my  arrest,  on  a  prosecution  against  the  Weekly  News.  Of 
this  journal  I  was  the  proprietor,  but  not  the  editor.  Strange 
to  say,  up  to  that  moment  I  had  not  read  what  had  been 
written  in  it  on  the  subject  of  the  executions,  so  engrossed 
was  I,  in  the  midst  of  the  prevailing  excitement,  with  the 
conduct  of  the  Nation,  the  direction  of  which  journal  lay  in 
my  own  hands.  I  hastened  home,  and  arrived  barely  in  time 
to  present  myself  in  court.  I  heard  the  articles  read  against 
me  ;  owned  in  my  heart  that  they  were  "pretty  strong  ;  " 
but  so  deeply  did  I  feel  upon  that  sad  business  that  I  would 
have  gone  to  the  scaffold  itself,  if  need  were,  rather  than 
flinch  as  the  issue  was  now  raised.  Once  again  I  was  com- 
mitted for  trial ;  and  on  the  15th  of  February,  surrendering 
to  my  bail,  I  stood  at  the  bar  in  Green  Street  to  answer  to  the 
Queen  for  my  conduct  as  a  journalist.  The  best  exertions 
of  the  able  and  gifted  gentlemen  who  acted  as  my  counsel 
were  of  no  avail.  After  a  protracted  trial,  I  was  found  guilty, 
sentence  being  deferred  pending  the  result  of  the  second 
prosecution. 

On  Thursday  morning,  the  20th  of  February,  1868,  "  John 
Martin,  Alexander  M.  Sullivan,  James  J.  Lalor,  and  Thomas 
Bracken  "  stood  at  the  bar  arraigned  for  that  they,  "being 
malicious,  seditious,  and  ill-disposed  persons,  and  intending 
to  disturb  the  peace  and  tranquility  of  the  realm,"  and  so 
forth,  did  assemble  seditiously.  We  joined  in  our  challenges 
and  took  trial  together.  Mr.  Lalor  and  Mr.  Bracken  were 
defended  by  counsel ;  the  speech  of  Mr.  Michael  Crean  for 
the  former  being  an  exceedingly  able  and  conclusive  argu- 
ment against  an  attempt  in  one  of  the  counts  of  the  indict- 
ment to  constitute  the  national  emblem  and  color  of  Ireland 
a  "  party  "  badge,  and  make  the  wearing  of  the  green  a  crime. 
Mr.  Martin  and  I,  dispensing,  on  many  grounds,  with  pro- 
fessional advocacy,  had  decided  to  speak  for  ourselves,  and 
it  was  privately  arranged  between  us  that  he  should  take 
precedence.  When,  however,  the  evidence  had  closed,  and 
17 


386  NEW  IRELAND. 

the  moment  came  for  him  to  rise,  his  strength  seemed  to  fail 
him ;  he  entreated  me  to  take  his  place,  and  to  give  him  until 
morning  for  rest  and  preparation.  Of  course  I  obeyed.  His 
simplest  wish  was  law  to  me.  For  years  we  had  worked  side 
hy  side  in  public  life  ;  side  by  side  in  peril  are  now.  With 
heavy  heart  I  reflected  that  his  feeble  frame  would  never 
stand  a  second  term  of  prison  punishment.  Yes,  I  would 
speak,  and  on  that  instant !  To  save  his  life  mayhap,  the 
precious  life  of  the  friend  I  loved,  to  defend  my  own  char- 
acter and  vindicate  my  principles,  I  would  fling  all  my  soul 
into  one  supreme  effort  to  move  that  jury  with  the  justice  of 
our  cause.  I  rose,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  stood  silent, 
scarcely  able  to  find  utterance.  1  could  not  only  feel  but 
hear  the  throbbing  of  my  heart.  I  painfully  realized  all 
the  danger  and  responsibility  of  my  position.  Tbe  court  was 
densely  crowded.  In  the  gallery  beyond  sat  my  wife,  my 
father,  my  brothers,  and  devoted  friends,  not  a  few  who 
would  gladly  have  taken  my  place  to  set  me  free.  The 
judges,  Mr.  Justice  Fitzgerald  and  Mr.  Baron  Deasy,  who 
had  conducted  my  previous  trial  and  this  one  with  singular 
impartiality  and  judicial  dignity,  seemed  to  feel  for  my  em- 
barrassment, and  extended  to  me  all  indulgence  and  consider- 
ation. At  length  I  was  well  under  way ;  and  once  fairly 
started  I  was  perfectly  at  ease.  After  a  while,  inspired  rather 
than  deterred  by  the  circumstances  surrounding  me,  I  struck 
boldly  into  an  argument  upon  the  whole  ground  covered  by 
the  issues  raised  in  the  prosecution.  As  I  went  on,  night 
fell ;  the  lamps  were  lighted.  Outside  the  building  a  crowd, 
unable  to  obtain  admittance,  filled  the  street.  Despite  the 
efforts  of  the  police, — neither  angry  nor  severe,  poor  fellows, 
to  tell  the  truth, — the  throng  inside  frequently  burst  into 
cheers,  which  the  people  outside  repeated,  knowing  only  that 
it  was  one  of  the  traversers  who  was  being  applauded.  I  spoke 
without  notes  or  assistance  of  any  kind,  my  mind  being  full 
of  the  case.  As  I  concluded,  feeling  very  much  like  a  man 
"shooting  Niagara,"  I  became  aware  that  a  great  roar  of 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  387 

cheering  had  broken  forth,  that  scores  of  hands  were  grasping 
at  and  clutching  me,  and  that  John  Martin  had  his  arms 
around  me.  I  was  borne  outside,  to  receive  a  thousand  felici- 
tations, and  to  hear  from  many  a  voice  the  prophecy,  "No 
verdict." 

A  true  prophecy  it  proved  to  be.  Next  evening  the  trial 
closed.  The  jury  were  charged,  and  retired.  An  hour 
went  by,  and  another.  Still  they  came  not.  At  length 
they  return  to  ask  a  question,  the  tenor  of  which  is  adverse 
to  the  Crown.  The  crowd  wait  till  they  retire,  then  break 
into  cheers.  By  and  by  the  jury  are  sent  for.  They  "can- 
not agree,"  and  are  discharged.  "Victory  !  "  cry  the  enthu- 
siastic multitude  in  the  streets,  and  the  news  is  telegraphed 
all  over  Ireland.  Yes,  it  was  victory  ;  but  not  rescue  for 
me.  Next  morning  I  came  to  the  bar  to  hear  my  sentence 
under  the  conviction  for  the  press  offense.  Mr.  Justice 
Fitzgerald  spoke  it  in  words  as  full  of  considerate  kindliness 
as  on  such  an  occasion  well  could  be.  At  the  close  of  a 
brief  address,  he  said, — 

"  I  assure  you  that  it  is  with  great,  with  deep  regret  that  it  becomes 
my  duty  to  announce  to  you  the  sentence  of  the  law.  My  learned  col- 
league and  myself  have  considered  this  case  most  anxiously.  We  have 
considered  it  with  a  view  that  if  we  erred  at  all  it  should  be  on  the 
side  of  leniency  ;  but,  notwithstanding,  the  sentence  must  be  such  as 
will  for  a  considerable  time  withdraw  you  from  public  life.  I  regret 
this  the  more  when  I  recollect  that  you  have  proved  yourself  in  this 
court  a  man  possessed  of  eminent  ability, — an  ability  that  I  would 
much  wish  was  exerted  in  the  same  way  in  another  cause  ;  and  not 
only  that,  but  I  am  aware  from  the  public  prints  that  you  have  de- 
voted your  time,  or  at  least  a  considerable  portion  of  it,  and  the  talents 
with  which  you  are  gifted,  to  the  public  service,  to  advance  the  cause 
of  education  and  promote  the  claims  of  charity.  But,  notwithstand- 
ing, we  have  a  duty  to  perform  to  the  public  for  the  repression  of 
similar  offenses.  It  is  not  my  wish  or  desire  to  prolong  this  scene, 
which  to  me  is  extremely  painful,  nor  to  say  one  word  that  would  give 
unnecessary  offense  ;  but  in  the  simplest  language  to  announce  to  you 
the  sentence  of  the  law.  That  sentence  is  that  you  be  imprisoned 
for  a  period  of  six  calendar  months  from  the  present  time ;  and  further 


388  NEW  IRELAND. 

that  you  at  the  end  of  that  time  give  security,  yourself  in  five  hun- 
dred pounds  and  two  sureties  in  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  each, 
to  be  of  good  behavior  for  a  period  of  two  years  ;  and  in  default  of 
such  security  being  given,  that  you  be  further  imprisoned  for  a  second 
period  of  six  calendar  months." 

I  was  borne  to  the  cell  beneath  the  court,  where  I  bade 
adieu  to  my  family  ;  and  a  few  hours  subsequently  I  entered 
the  portals  of  Kichmond  as  a  prisoner. 

As  a  prisoner  !  The  judge,  when  sentencing  me,  had 
alluded  in  kindly  spirit  to  some  labors  of  mine  in  "the  pub- 
lic service,"  as  he  expressed  it.  I  had  for  some  years  taken 
an  active  interest  and  somewhat  of  a  prominent  part  in  civic 
affairs  ;  and  any  position  of  honor  or  trust  which  my  fellow- 
citizens  could  well  confer  upon  me  they  had  not  hesitated 
to  bestow.  Among  the  rest,  I  had  been  for  some  time  past 
elected  from  year  to  year  on  the  Board  of  Superintend- 
ence of  -the  City  Prisons :  so  that  I  found  myself  about  to 
fill  a  cell  in  a  jail  over  which  I  had  for  some  years  been  a 
ruling  authority.*  Not  even  while  I  was  being  weighed  and 
measured,  and  having  the  color  of  my  eyes  and  hair  duly 
entered  in  the  register,  did  I  greatly  feel  the  difference  be- 
tween this  and  one  of  my  ordinary  visits  to  the  place.  It 
was  only  when,  later  on,  a  moment  came,  which  the  gover- 
nor with  great  delicacy  put  off  as  long  as  possible, — when, 
after  "sauntering,"  as  it  were,  to  a  cell  up-stairs,  and  hav- 
ing talked  with  me  a  .good  deal  about  prison-affairs,  as  of 
old,  he  at  last  said,  "Well,  I  must  now  say  good-by,"  and 
turned  into  the  corridor,  leaving  me  behind, — when  I  heard 
the  bang  of  the  heavy  iron  door  that  shut  me  in,  and  list- 
ened to  the  bolt  of  the  lock  shot  through,— the  reality  of 
the  situation  seemed  suddenly  to  burst  upon  me  !  I  gave 
one  glance  around  the  narrow  space,  with  its  floor  of  stone, 

*  On  the  eve  of  the  election  for  1868,  as  my  trials  were  pending,  I 
considered  it  proper  to  decline  office  for  that  year  ;  but  when  the 
period  of  my  imprisonment  was  over  I  was  elected  to  my  former  place, 
as  before. 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  389 

and  window  heavily  barred.  What !  Was  this  only  a  dream, 
— a  scene  in  an  acted  play, — or  could  it  be,  oh,  heaven  !  that 
to-night  at  Belfield  Park  my  little  child  would  call  for  me 
in  vain  ?  My  wife  !  my  parents  !  I  sank  upon  the  rude 
prison-pallet  and  felt  for  an  instant  as  if  my  heart  would 
break.  Suddenly  I  sprang  to  my  feet.  "Hold!"  I  ex- 
claimed, almost  aloud  :  "is  this  my  fortitude  ?  How  light 
is  my  lot,  how  trivial  must  my  sufferings,  mental  or  physi- 
cal, be,  compared  with  those  borne  by  better  men,  whenever 
or  wherever,  in  any  age  or  clime,  a  struggle  for  national 
liberty  is  pressed  ! "  I  felt  almost  ashamed  of  my  momen- 
tary weakness,  and  resolved  to  accept  with  composure  the 
penalty  I  had  incurred.  After  all,  as  I  avowed  in  my  speech 
on  the  trial,*  the  man  who  enters  into  conflict  with  the  civil 
power  is  bound  to  weigh  the  consequences.  At  that  moment 
Mr.  William  Johnson  of  Ballykilbeg  (now  member  of  Par- 
liament for  Belfast),  the  intrepid  leader  of  Ulster  Orange- 
ism,  was  being  carried  to  the  county  jail  of  Down  to  un- 
dergo a  like  punishment  for  defying  an  act  of  Parliament 
which  he  believed  to  be  an  infringement  of  constitutional 
liberty.  Why  should  I  complain  ?  He  who  strikes  must 
not  wail  if  he  is  struck  in  the  combat. 

A  recently-passed  act  of  Parliament  had  abolished  all  dis- 
tinction between  misdemeanant  prisoners  ;  so  that  a  public 
journalist  convicted  for  political  writings  was  classified  for 
treatment  with  the  vulgar  herd  of  crime.  This  was  a  great 
outrage.  In  my  case,  however,  everything  short  of  violent 
illegality  was  done  by  the  public  authorities  to  mitigate  such 
a  cruel  state  of  things.  Every  officer  in  the  prison,  from 
Captain  Boyd,  the  governor,  down  to  the  youngest  warder, 
strove  by  demonstrations  of  respect  and  kindliness  to  rob  my 

*  "  It  is  the  first  and  most  original  condition  of  society,  that  a  man 
shall  subordinate  his  public  acts  to  the  welfare  of  the  community, 
or  at  least  acknowledge  the  right  of  those  among  whom  his  lot  is 
cast  to  judge  him  on  such  an  issue  as  this.  Freely  I  acknowledge  that 
right." 


390  NEW  IBELAND. 

imprisonment  of  all  humiliation.  I  became  aware  that  Lord 
Mayo,  the  Irish  Secretary,  evinced  the  liveliest  personal  in- 
terest in  the  efforts  to  avert  from  me  the  indignities  and 
severities  to  which  the  classification  otherwise  would  have 
subjected  me.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  weary  time,  a  pro- 
longed suffering.  Cellular  imprisonment,  especially  under 
"  the  solitary  system,"  as  in  my  case,  is  a  torture  to  men  of 
active  habits  and  nervous  temperament.  For  such  men  the 
cell  of  the  "silent  system  "  is  the  antechamber  of  the  lunatic 
ward.* 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  30th  of  May,  1868,  Cap- 
tain Boyd  entered  the  day-room  :  he  held  an  open  letter  in 
his  hand. 

"  '  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  bring  glad 
tidings  of  good  things ! ' "  he  exclaimed,  his  face  radiant 
with  pleasure. 

"  What  is  it,  captain  ?  " 

"  The  order  for  your  release,"  he  replied. 

*  The  rules  forbade  prisoners  to  "  whistle  or  sing."  Music  was  one 
of  the  great  charms  of  home  for  me,  and  I  longed  to  hear  some.  I 
induced  a  friend  to  smuggle  in  for  me  a  little  "  musical  box  ; "  at  least 
I  begged  it  might  be  so  small  as  not  to  be  overheard  outside  my  cell. 
Unfortunately,  meaning  to  be  very  kind,  he  brought  me  a  rather  large 
one,  and  with  a  novel  mode  of  stop.  I  set  it  to  play.  Horror  of  hor- 
rors !  It  seemed  as  loud  as  Dan  Godfrey's  band  !  I  tried  to  stop  it. 
In  vain.  In  a  few  minutes  I  heard  the  warder  approaching.  What 
was  to  be  done  ?  I  seized  the  mischievous  thing,  and  thought  to  break 
it  up.  I  rushed  to  my  camp-bed,  and  rolled  the  instrument  in  the 
bedclothes,  as  it  went  banging  away  at  the  "Overture  to  William 
Tell."  The  warder  stopped  outside  my  cell  door. 

"  Do  you  hear  some  music,  sir?" 

"Ahem  !  yes— that  is,  something  like  music." 

"  It  seems  just  outside  the  walls,  sir.     What  on  earth  can  it  be  1" 

"  Oh,  some  confounded  Italian  organ-grinder  is  always  in  the  neigh- 
borhood." 

"  Bedad,  sir,  I  think  may-be  it's  one  of  the  city  bands  marching  out 
to  serenade  you  ! " 

I  never  tried  that  musical  box  again. 


TEE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL.  391 

Oh,  blessed  liberty!  Oh,  luxury  ineffable  of  walking 
freely  through  green  fields  and  listening  to  the  song  of 
birds ! 

Next  day  I  re-entered  the  world.  In  those  few  months 
great  changes  had  taken  place.  The  "troubled  rest  and 
ceaseless  fear "  of  the  Fenian  fever  were  all  over.  Great 
events  had  come  upon  the  scene.  A  night  of  anguish  and 
suffering  was  ended  for  Ireland.  Daylight  gleamed  in  the 
eastern  skies. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

"  DELENDA    EST    CABTHAGO  !  " 

OVEE  the  disestablishment  of  the  Irish  Protestant  Church 
was  fought  the  last  great  battle  between  the  "  Liberal "  and 
"  Conservative  "  parties  in  Ireland, — their  last,  as  the  two 
combatants  who  alone  had  hitherto  contended  for  or  divided 
between  them  the  Irish  parliamentary  representation. 

Soon  afterward,  as  we  shall  see,  a  new  issue  was  to  be 
raised ;  a  new  party  nomenclature  was  to  appear ;  a  new 
classification  to  be  adopted.  But  down  to  this  period,  with 
exceptions  that  scarcely  qualify  the  statement,  Irish  members 
of  Parliament  were  either  Liberals  or  Conservatives,  and  a 
general  election  in  Ireland  was  a  stand-up  fight  between  "the 
Reform  "  and  "  the  Carlton."  The  great  struggle  of  1868, 
however,  was  destined  to  be  the  last  of  its  class. 

Although  in  the  abstract  entitled  to  be  ranked  among 
questions  of  the  first  magnitude,  the  Church  grievance,  as  it 
existed  in  1865,  had  called  forth  comparatively  little  thought 
or  attention  from  the  Irish  people.  The  subject  would  have 
been  placed  third  or  fourth  on  any  list  of  parliamentary  re- 
forms demanded  by  the  popular  voice, — the  Land  invariably 
being  first.  When  in  1838  the  direct  payment  of  tithe  from 
the  Catholic  farmer  to  the  Protestant  rector  was  changed 
into  an  indirect  payment  through  or  in  the  landlord's  rent, 
the  grievance  was  adroitly  put  out  of  sight.  By  a  reform 
which  may  be  called  a  clever  piece  of  legislative  legerdemain, 
Catholic  Paddy  was  supposed  to  be  relieved  because,  in  place 
of  paying  ten  pounds  of  rent  to  the  landlord  and  one  pound 
of  tithe  to  the  rector,  he  had  to  pay  eleven  pounds  as  rent  to 

392 


"DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO!"  393 

the  landlord,  the  latter  handing  over  to  his  reverence  the 
tithe  portion,  minus  the  modest  deduction  of  twenty-five  per 
cent,  for  collection.  Henceforth  a  farmer  objecting  to  pay 
this  part  of  his  "rent"  would  be  held  up  to  the  public 
simply  as  a  defaulting  tenant.  And  soon  the  tenants  came 
to  see  that  any  abolition  or  remission  of  the  "tithe-rent- 
charge  "  henceforth  would  mean  no  relief  whatever  to  them. 
The  landlord  would  demand  as  much  as  ever  for  the  land, 
would  keep  the  rent  at  what  it  had  been  inclusive  of  the 
tithe ;  and  it  was  a  mere  question  whether  so  much  went 
directly  into  the  pocket  of  the  landlord  or  indirectly  into 
that  of  the  rector. 

"Disendowing"  the  Church,  therefore,  did  not  relieve  the 
Catholic  millions  of  Ireland  of  one  penny  paid  in  this  way ; 
and  I  should  be  perplexed  to  say  whether  in  my  opinion  the 
tenant  farmers  of  Ireland  would,  on  the  whole,  have  pre- 
ferred, as  to  this  fiscal  aspect  of  the  question,  that  disendow- 
ment  had  been  carried  or  not.  As  it  is,  the  change  matters 
little  to  them  or  to  the  Church  :  they  pay  as  much  as  ever, 
and  the  Church  comes  financially  out  of  the  ordeal  not  a 
penny  the  worse. 

Disestablishment,  however,  was  quite  another  matter. 
Even  the  humblest  peasant  felt  the  Church  establishment  to 
be  a  standing  badge  of  conquest.  It  was  not  that  the  Irish 
Catholics,  like  the  English  Nonconformists,  believed  a  State 
Church  to  be  abstractly,  or  under  every  conceivable  state  of 
circumstances,  wrong  in  itself.*  It  was  because  they  saw 

*  Nonconformist  speakers  and  writers,  unaware  of  or  losing  sight  of 
this  fact,  fall  into  frequent  error  and  misconception  when  they  find 
Irish  Catholics  refusing  to  join  or  help  in  disendowing  and  disestablish- 
ing the  Church  in  England.  There  are  very  many  Irishmen  no  doubt 
who  are  opposed  to  State-churchism  everywliere  and  anywhere,  as  a 
matter  of  policy  or  wisdom  ;  but  it  was  not  on  the  abstract  ground  of 
anti-State-churchism  that  the  Irish  Catholics  as  a  body  complained 
against  and  assailed  the  Protestant  State  Church  in  Ireland.  The  real 
grounds  will  be  found  stated  in  the  text. 
2* 


394  NEW  IRELAND. 

that  not  alone  the  property  of  their  Church,  bestowed  by 
their  Catholic  forefathers  explicitly  for  Catholic  purposes, 
had  been  taken  totally  from  them  and  handed  over  to  a 
minority  of  about  one-tenth  of  the  whole  population,  but 
that  this  minority  were  furthermore  constituted  a  dominant 
or  ruling  caste  to  assail  and  humiliate  them.  One  may  specu- 
late whether  the  Irish  Catholics  would  have  greatly  con- 
cerned themselves  about  their  disestablishment  or  disendow- 
ment  had  the  Establishment  been  less  aggressive.  I  am 
personally  aware  that  in  parishes  where  the  Protestant  rector 
had  a  bona-fide  congregation  of  his  own,  and  confined  his 
ministrations  to  them, — that  is  to  say,  where  he  neither  car- 
ried on  nor  encouraged  proselytizing  raids  on  the  other  com- 
munion,— he  was  frequently  popular  in  the  most  cordial 
sense,  and  never  in  such  a  case  awakened  a  feeling  of  jealousy, 
dislike,  or  unfriendliness  in  the  breasts  of  the  Catholic 
masses  around  him.  To  these  he  was,  at  all  events,  a  local 
gentleman  who  spent  money  in  the  parish.  His  family  were 
amiable  and  kindly  to  all,  and  "good  to  the  poor,"  without 
invidious  object  in  their  charity.  He  attended  zealously,  as 
he  had  a  right  to  do,  to  his  own  co-religionists ;  but  he  re- 
spected the  conscientious  convictions  of  others.  I  could 
name  several  Protestant  clergymen  of  this  description,  whose 
place  in  the  respect  and  confidence,  I  might  say  affections, 
of  the  Catholic  parishioners  was  as  high  very  nearly  as  in 
the  esteem  and  reverence  of  their  own  congregations.*  Had 
the  type  been  more  prevalent,  the  Established  Church, 
though  wrong  as  ever  otherwise,  might  have  evoked  very 
little  hostility  from  the  Irish  people.  But  it  was  quite  a 
different  thing  to  see  clergy  of  the  Establishment  crowding 
into  associations  and  societies  founded  for  the  purpose  of 

*  At  the  present  moment  I  would  invite  any  one  who  may  be  inclined 
to  doubt  this  statement  to  test  the  feelings  of  the  Catholics  of  Kenmare 
as  to  the  Bey.  Mr.  McCutcheon,  or  of  the  Catholics  of  Bantryas  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Paulkiner,  rectors  respectively  of  those  two  parishes  in  my 
native  district. 


"DELENDA  E8T  CARTHAGO!"  395 

proselytizing  Catholic  adults  or  children,  and  constituting 
themselves  individual  agents  of  such  organizations  in  their 
several  localities.  In  brief,  had  the  endowed  and  established 
minority  not  pursued  a  course  of  provocative  warfare  against 
the  Church  of  the  millions,  and  turned  against  these  millions 
the  funds  which,  as  they  sullenly  reflected,  once  had  been 
theirs,  the  Irish  Establishment  might  have  gone  on  far  into 
the  future  without  molestation  or  change  as  far  as  they  were 
concerned. 

Even  in  the  estimation  of  the  Catholic  bishops  this  Church 
question  did  not,  previous  to  1865,  occupy  as  important  a 
place,  was  certainly  not  deemed  as  exigent  by  them,  as  the 
Education  question.  On  this  latter  subject,  from  1859  to 
1864  they  had  organized  a  series  of  important  diocesan  meet- 
ings ;  throughout  the  same  period  they  had  raised  the  issue 
at  every  election,  and  publicly  pledged  themselves  to  concen- 
trate all  their  energies  on  school  and  university  reform,  as 
the  first  and  most  pressing  want  of  the  time.  Yet  when,  on 
the  30th  of  December,  1864,  "the  National  Association  of 
Ireland "  was  founded,  under  the  auspices  of  his  Eminence 
Cardinal  Cullen  and  other  leading  prelates,  the  Education 
question,  to  the  general  surprise,  was  pushed  to  the  rear,  and 
Disestablishment  placed  in  the  forefront  of  the  new  agitation. 

What  did  this  mean  ? 

For  some  time  previously  private  negotiations,  or  "  inter- 
change of  views,"  had  been  going  on  between  leading  mem- 
bers of  the  Liberation  Society  and  certain  prominent  English 
Liberals  on  the  one  hand,  and  some  Irish  ecclesiastical  and 
lay  politicians  on  the  other,  with  a  view  to  restoring  cordial 
relations,  or  effecting  a  new  alliance,  between  Irish  and  Eng- 
lish Liberalism.  In  Ireland  the  disruption  of  1852  had  never 
been  healed.  The  "  Brass  Band  "  of  Keogh  and  Sadleir  had 
made  the  name  of  Whig-Liberal  odious  in  popular  estima- 
tion ;  though  most  of  the  bishops  long  clung  to  the  old  ways, 
and  seemed  to  think  "  Catholic  appointments  "  the  be-all  and 
end-all  of  Irish  policy.  But  by  1864  even  the  bishops  had 


396  NEW  IRELAND. 

broken  with  the  Liberal  ministry.  The  strongly  anti-Papal 
policy  of  Lord  Palmerston  had  greatly  incensed  Irish  Catho- 
lics ;  and  the  bitter  resistance  offered  by  his  administration 
to  the  agitation  for  denominational  education  which  sprang 
up  in  1860  completed  the  estrangement  between  the  Liberal 
party  and  the  Irish  prelates.  What  with  this  antagonism 
and  its  paralyzing  results,  and  what  with  the  ominous  dis- 
appearance of  all  hope  or  faith  or  interest  in  constitutional 
agitation  on  the  part  of  the  Irish  masses,  a  state  of  deadlock 
prevailed  in  Irish  politics.  In  the  autumn  of  1864,  however, 
an  endeavor  was  made  to  bring  about  a  rapprochement  be- 
tween the  bishops  and  that  section  of  the  English  Liberals  of 
whom  Mr.  Bright  was  the  representative  and  leader.  To 
what  end,  it  was  asked,  should  a  waste  of  energy  be  contin- 
ued ?  Why  strive  at  cross-purposes  over  denominational 
education,  on  which  English  Liberals  and  Irish  Catholics 
could  not  agree  ?  Why  not  postpone  such  an  issue  until 
questions  upon  which  admittedly  they  could  pull  together 
had  first  been  disposed  of  ?  From  various  quarters,  Irish 
and  English,  the  bishops  were  urged  to  establish  a  great 
popular  organization  for  effecting  such  reforms  as  the  allied 
forces  of  English  and  Irish  Liberalism  might  combine  to  win. 
Vainly  would  these  appeals  have  reached  the  Irish  shore 
— vainly  as  to  any  effect  on  the  popular  mind — had  it  not 
been  for  an  agency  of  conciliation  which  had  at  this  time  made 
itself  felt  by  most  thoughtful  Irishmen.  In  the  press  of 
England  the  Irish  people  had  long  been  accustomed  to  en- 
counter an  unforgiving  foe.  With  much  surprise  they  saw 
a  new  daily  journal  started  in  the  imperial  metropolis,  a  lead- 
ing feature  in  which  seemed  to  be  a  fair,  a  just,  a  kindly  and 
sympathetic  treatment  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish  people.  Even 
where  it  dissented  from  Irish  projects  or  censured  Irish  faults, 
it  did  so  in  a  spirit  of  honest  friendliness  that  went  home  to 
every  impartial  mind.  This  was  to  us  almost  incompre- 
hensible. The  thing  was  so  new,  so  unlike  all  we  had  been 
accustomed  to,  that  we  could  hardly  realize  it.  For  the  first 


"DELENDA  E8T  CARTHAGO!"  397 

time  in  my  life  I  began  to  adequately  estimate  how  long 
a  way  a  little  genuine  and  honest  sympathy  goes  with  the 
Irish  people.  One  newspaper — the  Morning  Star — had  in  a 
few  years  created  an  impression  which  I  once  would  have 
deemed  impossible  to  be  effected.  That  newspaper  is  gone  ; 
but  this  I  can  affirm,  that  the  men  who  labored  in  its  pages 
accomplished  a  service  the  magnitude  of  which  was  fully 
known  only  to  those  who  were  behind  the  scenes  in  Irish 
politics.  They  did  not  indeed  wholly  bridge  over  the  chasm 
of  hatred  which  gaped  dark  and  wide  between  Ireland  and 
England  ;  but  they  laid  the  foundations  for  a  work  which  hap- 
pier times  may  perhaps  see  honorably  completed.  From  the 
period  of  their  efforts  may  be  dated  the  beginning  of  those 
friendly  relations  between  the  Irish  and  English  working- 
classes  in  some  of  the  cities  and  towns  of  Great  Britain 
which  is  noticeable  in  these  later  days,  and  which  is  so 
marked  in  contrast  to  the  hostility  of  previous  times.  Facts 
within  my  own  knowledge  and  experience  justify  me  in  class- 
ing the  influence  of  that  short-lived  English  newspaper  as 
one  of  the  foremost  agencies  in  a  notable  change  of  Irish 
feeling  and  opinion. 

There  seemed  many  reasons  why  the  Irish  bishops  and  clergy 
should  make  some  such  movement  as  that  to  which  they  were 
urged.  By  this  time  even  those  among  them  who  were  most 
responsible  for  the  destruction  of  the  tenant-right  organiza- 
tion in  1852  had  come  to  mourn  that  achievement  as  a 
lamentable  and  most  disastrous  error.  Gladly  would  they 
now  restore  what  they  had  then  pulled  down.  But  where 
now  were  they  to  find  a  man  whom  they  could  trust,  and 
whom  the  people  would  follow,  as  a  national  leader  ?  Gavan 
Duffy  was  in  exile,  and  George  Henry  Moore,  refusing  every 
compromise,  had  quitted  politics  for  the  time,  angered,  imbit- 
tered,  and  implacable.  One  man  of  equal  repute  with  these, 
though  wanting  their  experience  of  parliamentary  politics, 
there  still  remained  :  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon.  In  the  move- 
ments of  1843  and  1848,  as  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter, 


398  NEW  IRELAND. 

Mr.  Dillon  had  played  a  conspicuous  part.*  By  friend  and 
foe  he  was  esteemed  for  his  many  noble  qualities.  In  1856, 
with  the  tacit  assent  of  the  Government,  he  returned  from 
exile,  and,  utterly  eschewing  politics,  resumed  his  profes- 
sional avocations.  It  was  only  in  1863  he  was  induced  by 
considerable  persuasion  to  re-enter  public  life,  so  far  as  to 
allow  himself  to  be  elected  to  the  Dublin  Municipal  Council. 
In  the  autumn  of  1864  he  was  strongly  pressed,  and  he 
eventually  consented,  to  accept  the  leadership  of  such  an 
Irish  movement  as  has  been  above  referred  to, — one  which 
would  enjoy  the  patronage  of  the  Catholic  bishops  and  re- 
ceive the  co-operation  of  the  English  Radicals. 

The  two  Irishmen,  however,  who  most  largely  contributed 
to  the  great  purpose  of  Disestablishment  were  Mr.  W.  J. 
O'Neill  Daunt  of  Kilcascan  Castle,  county  Cork,  and  Sir 
John  Gray,  M.P.,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Freeman 's 
Journal,  the  leading  daily  organ  of  popular  opinion  in  Ire- 
land. Mr.  Daunt  indeed  might  be  called  the  father  of  the 
movement  in  Ireland.  For  nearly  half  a  century  he  had 
been  associated  in  the  great  political  efforts  of  the  time,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  widely  esteemed  and  respected  of  Irish 
popular  leaders.  At  an  early  age  he  entered  Irish  politics, 
and  while  yet  a  young  man  became  quite  a  prominent  figure 
in  the  Eepeal  Association.  He  devoted  himself  to  literature, 
and  was  the  author  of  several  novels,  chiefly  illustrative  of 
Irish  social  and  political  life.  From  1845  to  1860  he  took 

*In  July,  1848,  at  one  of  the  secret  councils  of  the  Young  Ireland 
chiefs,— almost  the  last  they  held  before  the  ill-fated  "  rising,"— Dillon, 
grave,  dignified,  and  thoughtful  as  usual,  listened  calmly  to  the  debate. 
When  it  came  to  his  turn  to  speak  he  most  strongly  opposed  a  resort  to 
arms  under  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  At  this  a  feather-headed 
enthusiast  of  the  party  flared  up  wildly,  and  spoke  of  Dillon's  sober 
warning  as  "  timorous  shrinking."  He  was  answered  only  by  a  sor- 
rowful smile  from  the  brave  man  who  a  week  after  was  on  the  hill- 
side at  Killenaule  sword  in  hand  (and  for  eight  years  subsequently  was 
an  exile),  while  the  braggart  subsided  at  the  first  whisper  of  danger 
and  lay  still  till  the  storm  blew  over. 


"DELENDA  E8T  CARTHAGO!"  399 

little  or  no  part  in  political  affairs  ;  but  in  1861  lie  com- 
menced, almost  single-handed,  to  arouse  public  opinion 
against  the  Irish  State  Church.  He  became  an  active  cor- 
respondent of  Mr.  Carvell  Williams,  Secretary  of  the  Liber- 
ation Society,  and  in  conjunction  with  that  gentleman,  in  a 
large  degree,  directed  the  course  of  the  agitation  from  the 
beginning  to  the  close. 

Sir  John  Gray,  M.P.,  whose  "Irish  Church  Commis- 
sion "  *  may  be  said  to  have  rendered  Disestablishment  inev- 
itable, had  filled  a  leading  position  and  played  an  active  part 
in  Irish  politics  for  more  than  thirty  years  previously.  He 
was  a  Protestant  in  religion,  a  Repealer  and  Liberal  in  poli- 
tics. He  was  one  of  the  State  prisoners  (along  with  O'Con- 
nell)  in  1844,  and  fought  in  the  forefront  of  the  Tenant 
League  campaign  from  1850  to  1856.  To  the  Irish  metrop- 
olis, over  the  civic  affairs  of  which  he  virtually  ruled  for 
twenty  years,  he  was  a  public  benefactor.  When  he  es- 
poused a  cause,  he  served  it  with  all  his  heart.  Immediately 
on  his  election  for  Kilkenny  city  in  1865  he  flung  himself 
into  the  agitation  for  Disestablishment ;  and  assuredly  never 
did  public  man  devote  himself  with  more  indefatigable 
energy  to  a  public  question  than  he  did  at  this  important 
crisis  to  the  cause  of  religious  equality,  f 

It  was  a  hazardous  experiment  to  attempt  the  renewal  of 
parliamentary  agitation  in  Ireland  at  the  time.  The  Fenian 
leaders  had,  as  we  have  seen,  proclaimed  it  a  cardinal  point 
of  doctrine  and  practice  that  legal  or  constitutional  efforts 
were  "demoralizing"  and  must  not  be  allowed.  They  had 
stormed  platforms  and  dispersed  meetings  in  assertion  of 
this  view.  The  Orangemen,  too,  had  to  be  taken  into  ac- 

*  An  exhaustive  and  exceedingly  able  series  of  reports  on  the  his- 
tory, position,  revenues,  organization,  and  congregational  strength  of 
the  Established  Church  in  Ireland,  which  he  issued  from  time  to  time 
in  the  Freeman's  Journal. 

f  Sir  John  Gray  died  in  1876.  His  loss  was  heartily  regretted  by 
men  of  every  class  and  party  in  Irish  public  life. 


400  NEW  IRELAND. 

count  on  this  occasion.  When  it  was  announced  that  the 
new  association  was  to  be  inaugurated  at  a  public  meeting 
convened  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  threats  came  from  the  oppo- 
site poles  of  political  passion  ;  and  it  seemed  quite  uncertain 
whether  a  Fenian  riot,  or  an  Orange  riot,  or  an  Orange- 
Fenian  riot,  was  to  break  up  the  demonstration.  On  the 
28th  of  December  the  Grand  Orange  Lodge  of  Ireland  held 
a  special  sitting  to  express  their  condemnation  of  the  pro- 
posed meeting,  and  to  denounce  the  conduct  of  the  Lord 
Mayor  in  convening  it.  They  flung  in  his  face  his  oath  of 
office  as  a  Catholic,  in  which  the  following  passage  occurred  : 

"I  do  hereby  disclaim,  disavow,  and  solemnly  abjure  any  intention 
to  subvert  the  present  Church  Establishment  as  settled  by  law  within 
this  realm  ;  and  I  do  solemnly  swear  that  I  never  will  exercise  any 
privilege  to  which  I  am  or  may  become  entitled  to  disturb  or  weaken 
the  Protestant  religion  or  Protestant  Government  in  the  United  King- 
dom." 

From  the  other  quarter,  the  Fenian  camp,  came  the  sub- 
joined handbill,  distributed  in  thousands  throughout  the 
city : 

"No  SURRENDER. 

"  Nationalists, — An  attempt  at  a  revival  of  the  slavish  organization 
that  leaves  you  bondsmen  and  whining  slaves  to-day  is  about  being 
tried  on  in  Ireland  once  more  by  a  clique  of  un-God-f  earing  [sic\, 
place-hunting,  cowardly  political  agitators  composed  of  rack-renting 
landlords,  briefless  barristers,  anti-Irish  bishops,  parish  priests,  cur- 
ates, and  hireling,  renegade,  perjured  press-men.  Will  you,  eighteen 
thousand  Dublin  Nationalists,  tolerate  this  West-British  faction  to 
demoralize  your  manhood  again  ?  Never  I  '  Put  your  trust  in  God, 
my  boys,  and  keep  your  powder  dry.' " 

"Whether  it  was  that  the  Orangemen  trusted  to  the  Fenians 
to  do  the  work,  while  the  Fenians  relied  on  the  Orangemen 
for  the  duty,  was  never  clearly  explained,  but,  strange  to  say, 
the  meeting  was  held  without  let  or  hindrance,  disorder  or 
disturbance.  •  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Cullen  proposed  the  first 
resolution,  declaring  war  against  the  Establishment.  The 


"DELENDA  E8T  CARTHAGO!"  401 

most  important  incident  of  the  day,  however,  was  the  read- 
ing of  the  subjoined  letter,  which  laid  down  the  terms  of 
the  alliance  that  eventually  led  to  the  overthrow  of  the  State 
Church  in  Ireland : 

"  ROCHDALE,  December  23, 1864. 
"MY  DEAK  LORD  MAYOR, 

"I  have  to  thank  your  committee  for  their  friendly  invitation  to 
their  approaching  meeting,  although  I  shall  not  be  able  to  avail  myself 
of  it.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  an  effort  is  to  be  made  to  force  on  some 
political  advance  in  your  country.  The  objects  you  aim  at  are  good, 
and  I  hope  you  may  succeed.  On  the  question  of  landlord  and  tenant 
I  think  you  should  go  farther  and  seek  to  do  more.  What  you  want 
in  Ireland  is  to  break  down  the  laws  of  primogeniture  and  entail,  so 
that  in  course  of  time  by  gradual  and  just  process  the  Irish  people 
may  become  the  possessors  of  the  soil  of  Ireland.  A  legal  security  for 
tenants'  improvements  will  be  of  great  value,  but  the  true  remedy  for 
your  great  grievance  is  to  base  the  laws  which  affect  the  land  upon 
sound  principles  of  political  economy.  With  regard  to  the  State 
Church,  that  is  an  institution  so  evil  and  so  odious  under  the  circum- 
stances of  your  country  that  it  makes  one  almost  hopeless  of  Irish 
freedom  from  it  that  Irishmen  have  borne  it  so  long.  The  whole 
Liberal  party  in  Great  Britain  will  doubtless  join  with  you  in  demand- 
ing the  removal  of  a  wrong  which  has  no  equal  in  the  character  of  a 
national  insult  in  any  other  civilized  and  Christian  country  in  the 
world.  If  the  popular  party  in  Ireland  would  adopt  as  its  policy 
'  Free  Land  and  Free  Church,'  and  would  uniie  with  the  popular  party 
in  England  and  Scotland  for  the  advance  of  liberal  measures,  and 
especially  for  the  promotion  of  an  honest  amendment  of  the  represen- 
tation, I  am  confident  that  great  and  beneficial  changes  might  be  made 
within  a  few  years.  We  have  on  our  side  numbers  and  opinion  ;  but 
we  want  a  more  distinct  policy  and  a  better  organization  ;  and  these, 
I  hope,  to  some  extent,  your  meeting  may  supply. 

"Yours  very  truly,  JOHN  BRIGHT." 

The  terms  which  this  letter  so  formally  proposed  were 
fully  accepted  by  those  to  whom  the  offer  was  made.  The 
National  Association  of  Ireland  adopted  "  Free  Land  and 
Free  Church  "  as  its  policy.  But  only  under  the  chastening 
influences  of  adversity  were  the  parliamentary  chiefs  of  Eng- 
lish Liberalism  brought  to  embrace  it  as  theirs.  It  was  only 


402  NEW  IRELAND. 

after  they  had  been  stripped  of  power  and  thrust  from  office, 
and  had  borne  the  bitterness  of  many  a  defeat,  that  misfor- 
tune eventually  led  them  to  discover  in  Disestablishment  a 
way  to  victory,  honor,  and  fame. 

The  House  of  Commons  had  long  been  familiar  with  the 
Irish  Church  motion,  which,  in  one  shape  or  another,  made 
its  appearance  from  time  to  time.  The  English  Noncon- 
formists, under  Mr.  Miall  or  Mr.  Dillwyn,  aided  by  the  Irish 
Catholic  Liberals,  had  their  occasional  field-day  on  the  sub- 
ject. Up  to  1865  only  a  very  languid  interest  was  excited 
by  these  efforts ;  and  the  utmost  that  could  be  extracted  from 
even  the  most  friendly  administration  was  an  occasional  civil 
word,  or  an  oracular  reference  to  what  might  perchance  be 
possible  in  the  paulo-post-future  of  British  politics.  On  the 
28th  of  March,  1865,  on  a  resolution  offered  by  Mr.  Dill- 
wyn, there  ensued  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons,  in 
the  course  of  which  appeared  the  first  faint  gleam  of  what 
was  dawning  on  Mr.  Gladstone's  mind.  The  Government, 
speaking  through  Sir  George  Grey,  repelled  the  motion  de- 
cisively enough,  but  Mr.  Gladstone,  then  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer,  changed  the  "never"  of  previous  years  into  a 
significant  "not  yet."  The  Irish  Church  motion  of  1866, 
moved  on  the  10th  of  April  by  Sir  John  Gray,  brought  out 
the  fact  that  the  administration  had  taken  a  few  paces  for- 
ward on  the  subject.  On  this  occasion  the  Government  did 
not  exactly  oppose  the  motion,  though  they  did  not  accede 
to  it.  Mr.  Chichester  Fortescue,  the  Irish  Chief  Secretary, 
improved  somewhat  upon  Mr.  Gladstone's  "not  yet"  by 
wishing  the  cause  of  Disestablishment  "Godspeed."  Two 
months  latter  on — in  June,  1866 — the  Liberal  party  was  not 
merely  defeated  but  wrecked ;  the  Eussell-Gladstone  minis- 
try, deserted  and  assailed  by  the  reactionary  Whig  section  of 
their  followers  (known  throughout  the  incident  as  the  "  Adul- 
lamite  Cave  "),  fell  from  power,  and  a  Conservative  adminis- 
tration, under  Lord  Derby  as  Premier,  and  Mr.  Disraeli  as 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  assumed  the  seals  of  office. 


"DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO!"  403 

Meanwhile,  the  Irish  "National  Association"  was  not  a 
success.  Although  supported  by  a  great  array  of  episcopal 
power,  it  never  in  any  marked  degree  attracted  popular  sym- 
pathy or  support.  Public  feeling  in  Ireland  was  strongly  in 
favor  of  the  objects  it  had  proposed ;  but  the  objection  to 
fusing  with  the  English  Whig-Liberal  party  for  any  object 
seemed  all  but  insuperable.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  no  doubt  fa- 
vorably regarded  ;  but  Mr.  Lowe  was  more  than  mistrusted, 
while  Earl  Eussell,  as  the  author  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Titles 
Act,  was  the  object  of  downright  hostility.  There  was,  how- 
ever, one  man  confessedly  among  English  Liberals  whom  no 
one  could  call  a  Whig,  and  whom  all  admired  for  his  sterling 
independence ;  a  man  who  stood  almost  alone  among  the 
leading  English  orators  and  statesmen  of  his  time  in  this, 
that  when  his  voice  was  raised  to  denounce  oppression  and 
wrong,  wherever  prevailing,  he  did  not  shrink  from  includ- 
ing Ireland  in  the  scope  of  his  sympathies.  That  man  was 
John  Bright.  In  the  summer  of  1866  there  occurred  to  Mr. 
J.  B.  Dillon  the  happy  thought  of  entertaining  Mr.  Bright 
at  a  national  banquet  in  Dublin.  On  the  21st  of  August  a 
formal  and  public  invitation  signed  by  twenty- three  of  the 
Irish  members  was  forwarded  to  Mr.  Bright,  to  which  on 
the  1st  of  September  he  returned  an  answer  accepting  the 
proposed  compliment.  No  other  project  could  have  been 
devised  which  at  the  time  would  have  rallied  or  reassembled 
to  the  same  extent  the  hitherto  divided  and  hostile  elements 
of  Irish  popular  politics  ;  yet  at  first  it  seemed  a  hazardous 
experiment.  Not  without  some  doubts  and  misgivings  were 
the  circulars  issued  which  convened  a  private  conference  to 
consider  the  matter  at  the  Imperial  Hotel  in  Dublin.  The 
response,  however,  was  more  than  encouraging.  All  sections 
of  the  Irish  popular  party  cordially  concurred  in  the  proposal. 

In  the  course  of  thirty  years'  experience  of  Irish  politics,  I 
never  knew  anything  to  exceed  the  personal  bitterness  of  lan- 
guage which  the  proposal  to  fete  John  Bright  called  forth  in 
the  Irish  Conservative  journals.  Not  only  was  he  the  object 


404  NEW  IRELAND. 

of  the  fiercest  invective,  but  a  very  palpable  endeavor  was 
made  to  excite  against  him  personal  violence.  In  the  Gov- 
ernment organs — Lord  Derby  had  come  into  office  in  June — 
there  was  a  continuous  effort  to  set  the  Fenians  at  the  Bright 
banquet  and  induce  them  to  break  it  up.  To  many  of  the 
committee  this  seemed  no  insignificant  peril ;  and  their  fears 
were  increased  a  hundredfold  by  a  lamentable  event  which  for 
a  time  threatened  to  overwhelm  the  project.  This  was  the 
death,  after  barely  a  few  days'  illness,  of  Mr.  Dillon,  the 
moving  spirit  of  the  whole  proceeding.  He  was  known  to 
have  considerable  influence  with  the  Fenian  party,  or  rather 
it  was  well  known  that  most  of  the  leaders  and  nearly  all  the 
"rank  and  file"  of  that  party  shared  the  feelings  of  respect 
and  affection  in  which  he  was  held  by  the  bulk  of  his  country- 
men. He  himself  had  not  been  free  from  uneasiness  as  to 
attempts  at  disturbance  ;  and  now  that  he  was  gone  the  proba- 
bilities of  such  a  misfortune  were  greatly  increased.  I  did 
not  share  these  apprehensions  as  regards  any  serious  inter- 
ference by  Fenians  ;  but  I  did  fully  expect  that,  incited  by 
the  extreme-ascendency  newspapers,  persons  of  a  different 
stamp  would  purchase  tickets  with  a  view  so  to  conduct  them- 
selves at  the  banquet  as  to  mar  its  effect  and  give  the  much- 
desired  pretext  for  declaring  it  a  failure.  That  some  open 
insult  or  affront  would  be  offered  to  Mr.  Bright  by  such 
emissaries,  I  as  well  as  my  colleagues  on  the  committee  felt 
quite  convinced.  Up  to  the  decease  of  Mr.  Dillon  I  had  not 
taken  any  very  special  or  prominent  part  in  the  preparations, 
but  for  many  reasons  I  now  undertook  the  chief  responsi- 
bility for  the  arrangements  within  the  banquet-room,  on  the 
sole  condition  that  I  should  be  joined  by  two  friends  whom  I 
selected,  and  that  we  should  be  free  to  take  such  steps  as  we 
might  deem  requisite  to  maintain  order.  This  being  settled, 
I  took  good  care  to  diffuse  in  the  proper  quarters  a  notifica- 
tion that  we  intended  to  "make  it  hot"  for  disturbers,  and 
that  the  man  who  entered  the  banquet-hall  with  purpose  to 
insult  our  guest  (as  was  but  too  plainly  threatened  in  some 


"  DELENDA  EST  CARTHA GO  !  "  405 

of  the  Tory  papers)  must  be  prepared  for  all  consequences.  I 
drew  a  plan  or  diagram  by  which  the  room  was  to  be  seated, 
each  chair  numbered,  and  each  table  indicated  by  a  colored 
banner.  We,  moreover,  had  an  alphabetical  register  kept  of 
the  name  and  address  of  every  ticket-holder,  with  the  num- 
ber of  his  assigned  seat.  By  this  means  we  could  tell  in 
what  exact  spot  a  suspicious  visitor  would  be  placed,  and 
could  arrange  accordingly.  Never  was  check-mate  more 
complete.  About  a  dozen  intending  ticket-purchasers  turned 
away  "  disgusted  "  with  this  new-fangled  idea  of  having  their 
names,  addresses,  and  occupations  registered  on  a  numbered 
seat.  We  knew  these  gentlemen  well,  and  knew  what  they 
meant  to  do  ;  but,  pretending  to  regard  them  as  admirers  of 
John  Bright,  we  "confidentially"  whispered  to  them  the 
motive  of  our  arrangement.  They  "  changed  their  minds," 
and  bought  no  tickets. 

The  banquet  was  held  on  the  30th  of  October,  and  was  a 
success  beyond  all  anticipation.  It  was  the  great  event  of  the 
year.  No  more  splendid  assemblage,  none  more  influential 
or  numerous,  had  gathered  at  a  political  dinner  in  Ireland 
within  our  generation.  The  chair,  which  would  have  been 
filled  by  our  lamented  friend  Mr.  Dillon,  was  occupied  by 
The  O'Donoghue,  M.P.,  then  at  the  zenith  of  his  popularity. 
Mr.  Bright  received  an  ovation  rarely  equaled  in  warmth 
and  enthusiasm. 

While  he  was  speaking,  amidst  breathless  silence,  a  voice 
suddenly  interrupted  with  some  rude  observation.  On  any 
other  occasion  the  incident  might  have  passed  unnoticed,  but 
now  the  rumor  of  a  "  black  bottle  "  scene*  was  in  every  one's 

*  On  the  14th  of  December,  1822,  on  the  occasion  of  the  Marquis 
Wellesley,  Lord  Lieutenant,  visiting  the  Theater  Royal,  Dublin,  an 
organized  disturbance  on  the  part  of  the  Orangemen  took  place,  in  re- 
sentment of  his  Excellency's  sympathy  with  Catholic  Emancipation. 
The  affray  is  always  referred  to  as  the  "black  bottle"  riot,— a  black 
bottle  having  been  flung  at  the  Viceroy  by  an  Orangeman  in  the  top 
gallery. 


406  NEW  IRELAND. 

mind,  and  the  merest  trifle  was  enough  to  create  alarm.  I 
knew  by  reference  to  the  marked  plan  in  my  pocket  that  the 
interrupter  was  very  unlikely  to  be  present  with  evil  intent, 
yet  I  feared  what  might  occur  if  a  panic  set  in.  Two  stew- 
ards remonstrated  with  him  ;  but  he  seemed  beyond  his  own 
control.  A  second  and  a  third  time  he  shouted  some  inco- 
herent observation,  when,  on  a  pre-arranged  signal,  four 
athletic  stewards  whipped  him  bodily  out  of  his  seat  and 
bore  him  gently  out  of  the  room.  The  thing  was  done  so 
swiftly,  quietly,  and  smoothly  that  it  was  all  over  in  a  few 
seconds.  Then  there  burst  forth  a  cheer  so  loud  and  long  that 
one  might  have  thought  something  of  great  importance  had 
been  accomplished.  It  meant  that  the  assemblage  realized 
how  completely  the  threat  of  an  anti-Bright  disturbance  had 
collapsed  in  the  face  of  a  little  energy  and  determination. 

With  the  fall  of  the  Russell-Gladstone  ministry  in  June, 
1866,  there  set  in  a  two  years'  spell  of  such  parliamentary 
confusion  and  vacillation  as  had  not  been  known  since  Lord 
Melbourne's  time.  The  Tory  ministry  were  too  weak  to 
rule,  the  Liberal  opposition  too  feeble  and  too  hopelessly 
disintegrated  to  displace  them.  In  the  House  of  Lords 
Lord  Derby  led  a  flowing  majority,  but  in  the  Commons 
Mr.  Disraeli  had  to  deal  with  chaos  come  again.  It  was 
impossible  to  tell  from  day  to  day  with  anything  like  cer- 
tainty in  what  lobby,  with  ministers  or  against  them,  a 
majority  would  be  found  voting.  Now  it  was  one  way,  anon 
another.  Amidst  a  state  of  circumstances  so  adverse  the 
great  question  of  Reform  worked  its  way  to  a  remarkable 
conclusion.  Mr.  Disraeli  would  contend  that  he  was  the 
real  friend  of  a  popular  franchise  ;  but  it  was  with  gloomy 
fears  the  Reformers  saw  him  undertake  to  fondle  what  they 
declared  he  meant  to  strangle.  He  was,  however,  a  facile 
foe.  He  adapted  his  policy  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  situa- 
tion. He  took  defeats  in  a  most  Christian  spirit,  and  be- 
came all  things  to  all  majorities.  Eventually,  to  his  own 
great  surprise  (vailed  under  well-feigned  satisfaction),  he 


"DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO!"  407 

found  himself  the  author  of  the  most  radical  suffrage  bill 
ever  passed  under  the  auspices  of  a  British  Cabinet. 

Throughout  this  period,  from  the  summer  of  1866  to  the 
end  of  1867,  the  English  Liberal  party  in  Parliament,  rent 
by  discord  and  weakened  by  defection,  presented  a  pitiable 
spectacle.  Mr.  Gladstone  at  one  time  seemed  about  to  retire 
in  disgust  from  the  leadership  of  the  broken  and  dispirited 
array.  In  vain  was  an  issue  sought  on  which  they  might 
be  rallied  as  of  old  in  a  compact  body.  On  no  domestic 
(English)  question  that  could  be  devised  or  discerned  was  it 
found  practicable  to  reunite  them  ;  and  what  caused  most 
dismay  on  the  Opposition  benches  was  the  conviction  that 
were  any  such  question  to  be  discovered,  Mr.  Disraeli  would 
not  improbably  "cut  them  out"  by  espousing  it  himself. 
The  Tory  leader  who,  in  order  to  hold  on  by  the  Treasury 
Bench,  has  passed  a  Household  Suffrage  Bill  was  not  a  man 
to  stick  at  trifles. 

When  the  outlook  seemed  darkest,  however,  a  light  arose 
over  the  path  of  the  Liberals,  and  it  came  from  Ireland. 

An  incident,  apparently  trivial,  in  the  council-chamber  of 
the  Dublin  Corporation  a  year  or  two  before  had  brought 
about  results  which  led  right  up  to  Disestablishment. 

On  the  threshold  of  the  new  movement  in  Ireland  the  ex- 
treme section  of  the  Irish  Conservative  party  resorted  to  a 
course  of  action  which  many  of  them  subsequently  bewailed 
as  most  unwise  and  impolitic, — as  the  real  beginning  of  their 
overthrow.  Taking  their  cue  from  the  manifesto  of  the 
Grand  Orange  Lodge  on  the  28th  of  December,  1864,  they 
sought  to  stop  the  Catholics  by  means  of  the  odious  "Cath- 
olic Oath."  It  was  known  that  several  prominent  Catholic 
politicians,  peers  and  commoners,  had  felt  themselves  pre- 
cluded from  joining  in  any  Disestablishment  agitation  or 
debate  by  this  clause  in  "  the  Catholic  oaths."  In  the  case 
of  Catholics  becoming  members  of  a  civic  corporation  there 
was  this  painful  aggravation  of  the  grievance,  that  Prot- 
estants were  required  to  take  no  oath  at  all,  while  Catholics, 


408  NEW  IRELAND. 

and  Catholics  alone,  were,  so  to  speak,  put  on  their  knees  at 
the  bar  and  compelled  to  swear  fealty  to  the  Church  Estab- 
lishment. Many  good  and  honorable  men  explained  it  away 
satisfactorily  to  their  consciences ;  but  for  my  own  part  I 
felt  that  I  could  not  subscribe  to  such  an  oath  ;  and  when  I 
was  elected  to  a  seat  in  the  Municipal  Council  of  Dublin  in 
1862,  I  decided  to  refuse  it.  The  penalty  which  I  incurred 
by  such  a  course  was  a  fine  of  five  hundred  pounds  and  dis- 
qualification. I  judged  that  one  of  two  results  would  ensue 
from  my  refusal  :  either  I  should  pass  unsworn  without  chal- 
lenge or  interference,  and  all  other  Catholics  subsequently 
elected  would  do  the  same,  and  the  obnoxious  law  would 
become  a  dead  letter;  or  else  I  should  be  prosecuted,  and 
the  imposition  of  fine  and  punishment  upon  me  would  so 
arouse  public  opinion  as  to  the  insulting  character  of  such 
tests  that  Parliament  would  assuredly  sweep  them  away. 

On  perfecting  before  Mr.  Henry,  town  clerk,  the  statutory 
declaration  as  to  my  property  qualification,  that  gentleman 
intimated  to  me  that  there  now  remained  for  me  only  to 
"go  before  a  magistrate,  take  the  oath,  and  sign  the  roll." 

"  TBere  is  Alderman  Bonsall  just  gone  up-stairs,"  said  I : 
"  has  he  taken  the  oath  ?  "  (I  knew  well  he  had  not ;  for  the 
alderman  was  a  leading  Tory  of  very  Orange  hue.) 

"  Oh,  he  need  not  take  it :  he  is  not  a  Catholic,"  replied 
Mr.  Henry. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Town  Clerk,"  I  rejoined,  "  call  upon  me  to 
take  the  oath  when  Alderman  Bonsall  is  sworn,  but  not  till 
then.  If  he  is  free,  so  must  I  be." 

I  took  my  seat  unsworn,  and  for  some  period  was  not  mo- 
lested. At  length  I  was  denounced  to  justice  in  the  Daily 
Express  for  a  violation  of  the  statute  in  this  case  made  and 
provided  ;  and  one  morning  as  the  council  was  about  to 
assemble  I  was  informed  that  the  Lord  Mayor  had  been 
officially  called  upon  to  give  me  into  custody,  or  to  take 
other  requisite  steps,  if  I  spoke  or  voted  as  a  councillor  that 
day.  The  Lord  Mayor  was  the  Hon.  John  P.  Vereker,  son 


"DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO!"  409 

of  Lord  Gort,  a  stanch  Conservative,  a  man  of  broad  and 
generous  spirit.  He  called  me  aside  and  told  me  of  the 
demand  that  had  been  made  upon  him. 

"  Well,  my  Lord,  do  your  duty,"  I  said,  "and  let  not  our 
personal  friendship  put  you  in  any  official  difficulty  on  my 
account.  I  have  measured  the  consequences  of  my  course, 
and  must  face  them." 

"Oh,"  he  replied,  "I  have  given  the  parties  my  an- 
swer." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  That  I  have  no  official  knowledge  of  your  religious 
creed,  having  never  examined  you  in  the  decrees  of  the 
Council  of  Trent,  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  or  the  West- 
minster Confession  of  Faith." 

I  heard  no  more  just  then  of  the  threatened  penalty  or  the 
unsworn  oaths. ' 

On  the  1st  of  January,  1865,  the  civic  council  were  in  the 
act  of  passing  to  Alderman  MacSwiney,  the  outgoing  Lord 
Mayor,  who  had  presided  at  the  inaugural  meeting  of  the 
National  Association,  the  customary  vote  of  thanks  on  the 
close  of  his  year  of  office,  when  a  Conservative  councillor, 
Mr.  Pilkington,  jumped  suddenly  to  his  feet,  and  objected  to 
the  vote,  on  the  distinct  ground  that  the  outgoing  dignitary 
had  been  false  to  his  oath  in  respect  of  the  Church  by  law 
established.  This  charge  of  public  perjury  against  the  man 
who  had  barely  laid  down  the  wand  of  office  as  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  city — and  perjury  on  such  grounds  ! — flung  the 
council  into  the  wildest  indignation.  Of  course  the  imputa- 
tion was  fiercely  resented,  scornfully  repelled  ;  but  the  Con- 
servatives followed  it  up  by  reading  the  ipsissima  verba  of 
the  oath  relied  upon  to  sustain  their  accusation.  The  vote 
was  passed,  but  the  Catholic  and  Liberal  members  vowed 
that  the  matter  should  not  rest  there.  Out-of-doors  the  ef- 
fect was  equally  strong.  A  cry  arose  for  the  sweeping  away 
of  these  offensive  barriers  between  citizens  of  different  creeds. 
The  municipal  council  itself  formally  commenced  an  agita- 
18 


410  NEW  IRELAND. 

tion  against  "Obnoxious  Oaths."  A  special  meeting  was 
convened  with  great  display  to  debate  the  question.  By 
unanimous  resolution  it  was  ordered  that  a  petition  praying 
for  the  abolition  of  these  invidious  test  declarations  should  be 
presented  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  by  the  Lord 
Mayor  in  state.  The  other  municipalities  of  Ireland  caught 
the  excitement.  Deputations,  addresses,  petitions,  resolu- 
tions, on  the  "  Obnoxious  Oaths,"  kept  the  public  mind  in  a 
ferment.  The  ascendency  yoke  that,  as  John  Bright  com- 
plained, seemed  to  have  lain  so  lightly  on  Irish  necks  now 
grew  intolerable.  The  opportunity  that  so  long  had  been 
sought  for  and  waited  for  had  come  at  last.  It  was  decided 
to  break  ground  against  the  Church  by  an  attack  on  the  Test 
Oaths.  The  Grand  Orange  Lodge  on  that  28th  of  December, 
1864,  and  Mr.  Pilkington  on  the  1st  of  January,  1865,  had 
applied  a  torch  to  the  pile  they  thought  to  defend  ! 

Over  the  Catholic  Oaths  Bill  from  the  session  of  1865  to 
that  of  1867  the  great  battle  that  was  soon  to  come  in  earnest 
was  fought  in  miniature,  and  fought  on  ground  the  most 
favorable  that  could  have  been  found  for  the  attacking 
party.  The  oaths  were  manifestly  indefensible.  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli saw  it,  felt  it,  virtually  confessed  it ;  but  every  one 
knew  that  they  were  now  assailed  as  the  outposts  of  the 
Church,  and  so  the  abolition  was  doggedly  resisted.  In  two 
sessions  consecutively  the  Commons  passed  the  measure  ;  as 
often  did  it  fail  in  the  House  of  Lords.  Eighteen  hundred 
and  sixty-seven  found  the  Establishment  outposts  intact,  but 
the  movement  against  them  had  served  the  purpose  of  the 
assailants  as  effectually  as  capture  would  have  done.  Events 
of  considerable  importance  had,  as  we  shall  see,  occurred 
meantime.  All  over  the  land  "Delenda  est  Carthago  "  was 
the  cry.  The  moment  had  arrived  for  the  storming  of  the 
stronghold ! 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

DISESTABLISHMENT. 

WHEN  the  first  inevitable  burst  of  indignation  and  anger 
called  forth  in  England  by  the  Fenian  conspiracy  had  a  little 
subsided,  there  began  to  dawn  on  the  minds  of  the  English 
people  an  idea  that  there  must  after  all  be  "something  rot- 
ten "  in  the  state  of  Ireland.  This  was  perplexing  ;  because 
it  was  in  utter  contradiction  to  all  that  the  authorities  upon 
whom  they  most  relied  had  told  them  about  that  country. 
They  had  been  assured  that,  whatever  might  have  been  the 
case  in  the  past,  Ireland  "now"  had  no  cause  of  complaint : 
she  was  loyal  and  contented,  happy,  wealthy,  and  prosper- 
ous, with  pigs  abounding  and  bullocks  thriving.  At  no  time 
were  these  assurances  so  frequently  and  so  strongly  indulged 
in  as  during  the  years  immediately  preceding  the  Fenian 
outbreak.  "  The  land  laws  ?  They  are  excellent ;'  tenant 
right'  means  'landlord  wrong.'  The  Church  ?  No  griev- 
ance at  all ;  this  is  a  Protestant  realm,  and  Roman  Catholic 
ascendency  is  what  the  Irish  priests  are  really  after.  Home 
legislation  ?  A  cry  for  the  moon ;  we  cannot  break  up  the 
empire.  Education  ?  The  Irish  have  the  schools  we  know 
to  be  the  best  for  them  ;  whereas  they  had  none  previously." 
Thus  the  story  ran.  If  an  honest  Irishman  had  the  temerity 
to  hint  a  doubt  of  it, — dared  to  say  there  was  any  discontent 
in  Ireland,  or  any  reason  why  there  should  be, — he  was 
savagely  set  upon,  called  an  incendiary,  and  denounced  as  a 
calumniator.  * 

*  So  late  as  the  23d  of  May,  1867,  an  Irish  member  (Mr.  J.  F.  Ma- 
guire),  having  ventured  to  blame  the  existing  state  of  things,  was  thus 

411 


412  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  the  midst  of  such  declarations  came  the  Fenian  con- 
spiracy, with  its  sad  and  horrible  incidents  in  Manchester 
and  London.  At  first,  of  course,  Englishmen  thought  only 
of  vindicating  the  outraged  majesty  of  the  law  ;  hut  when  it 
had  been  vindicated — when  the  executioner  had  done  his 
work,  and  the  chain-gangs  at  Portland  and  Chatham  had 
been  reinforced  by  political  convicts — there  began  to  creep 
through  England  a  doubt  that  the  newspapers  and  the  vice- 
roys and  the  chief  secretaries  could  have  been  all  right  as  to 
Ireland  ''now"  having  no  cause  of  complaint.  A  serious 
doubt  truly.  The  consoling  array  of  pig  statistics  and  green- 
crop  extension  and  fat-stock  multiplication  had  been  to  Eng- 
lish expectation  as  equivocal  in  prophecy  as  the  witches' 
promise  to  the  Thane  of  Fife. 

The  better  nature  of  Englishmen  was  touched  and  aroused 
by  the  spectacle  opened  to  their  contemplation  in  this  lament- 
able Fenian  business.  They  were  much  impressed  by  the 
exhibition  of  such  reckless  fanaticism  mingled  with  patriotic 
self-immolation.  But  more,  much  more,  were  they  moved  by 
the  serious  circumstance  that  the  Irish  multitude  who  had 
rejected,  condemned,  or  refused  to  join  the  Fenian  scheme 
were  clearly  none  the  less  in  moral  revolt  against  the  state 
of  things  around  them.  All  over  Britain  a  murmur,  soon  to 

answered  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  Mr.  Boebuck,  M.P.  :  "The 
honorable  gentleman  rushes  into  the  whole  subject  of  Irish  grievances. 
Now,  in  the  first  place,  I  will  make  an  admission :  that  up  to  1829 
nothing  could  have  been  worse  than  the  government  of  Ireland.  I  will 
allow  that.  But  from  that  time  to  this  the  House  has  been  doing  all 
it  could  to  alleviate  the  physical,  the  constitutional,  and  the  moral  inju- 
ries of  Ireland.  There  have,  however,  been  obstacles,  and  among  the 
chief  of  those  is  the  language  used  by  the  honorable  gentleman 
(cheers).  Can  honorable  members  think  that  their  poor,  uneducated, 
miserable  countrymen  in  Ireland  will  see  the  truth  when  they  them- 
selves, here  in  this  house  and  before  the  people  of  England,  dare  to 
say  that  we  are  unjust  to  Ireland  ?  Why,  I  say  that  a  more  foul  cal- 
umny, a  more  gigantic  falsehood,  was  never  uttered." 

And  this  was  within  less  than  a  year  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  Disestab- 
lishment Resolutions. 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  413 

be  a  cry,  arose  that  there  must  be  a  cause  for  political  symp- 
toms so  plain  and  terrible  as  these.  When  once  the  Eng- 
lish nation,  awaking  to  the  existence  of  an  evil,  exclaims 
that  "Something  must  be  done,"  old  wrongs  and  venerable 
anomalies,  one  and  all,  have  need  to  tremble  ;  for  the  "some- 
thing "  that  is  done  is  often  that  only  which  happens  to  be 
nearest  to  hand  or  is  selected  almost  at  hap-hazard. 

"  What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  ?  "  was  the  question  uttered 
in  good  faith  and  with  just  intent  by  thousands  of  English- 
men. "  What  are  the  grievances  which  we  can  remedy  for 
our  Irish  fellow-subjects  ?  We  cannot  listen  to  their  de- 
mands for  national  autonomy,  but  whatever  else  we  can  do 
for  them  that  will  be  for  their  good  (or  rather  that  we  shall 
consider  to  be  for  their  good)  shall  be  done." 

The  growth  of  these  ideas  and  feelings  throughout  Eng- 
land, long  before  it  had  reached  this  decisive  stage,  was  noted 
by  the  leading  members  of  the  English  Liberation  Society. 
They  saw  a  grand  opportunity,  and  promptly  turned  it  to 
account.  They  poured  througli  the  land  invectives  against 
the  Irish  Law  Church.  They  said  to  Englishmen,  "You 
desire  to  know  what  ails  Ireland.  Here  it  is.  You  desire  to 
befriend  Ireland,  to  end  misgovernment  and  make  reparation 
for  the  past ;  you  want  to  know  what  to  do.  Do  this.  Sweep 
away  this  cruel  oppression,  this  fruitful  source  of  heart-burn- 
ing and  strife.  Abolish  this  hateful  caste,  this  sectarian  gar- 
rison, which  has  only  made  Irishmen  hate  you  when  they 
might  have  learned  to  love  you.  Tell  the  Catholic  millions 
of  Ireland  that  henceforth  all  creeds  are  equal  in  the  eye  of 
the  law,  and,  possessing  religious  equality,  they  will  become 
happy  and  contented  citizens  of  the  empire." 

To  Englishmen  in  the  mood  of  the  time  it  was  a  thrice- 
welcome  voice  that  spoke  so  opportunely  and  so  well.  Some 
no  doubt  there  were  who  did  not  like  the  Liberation  Society 
or  its  designs  in  England ;  but  this  Disestablishment  was  to 
be  over  there  in  Ireland,  not  at  their  own  doors.  They  cried 
aloud,  "  Let  it  be  done." 


414  NEW  IRELAND. 

Less  sagacious  men  than  the  Liberal  leaders  in  England 
could  see  what  all  these  signs  proclaimed.  The  time  was 
ripe  for  a  bold  and  great  policy.  On  the  Irish  Church  ques- 
tion the  Conservative  leader  durst  not  venture  to  compete 
with  them.  Here  was  the  ground  on  which  to  engage  and 
overthrow  him.  Here  was  a  policy  on  which  the  Liberal 
party  could  be  reconstructed  and  endowed  with  new  life  and 
power.  No  "caves  "  would  be  formed,  no  mutinies  attempted, 
on  this  line  of  march.  The  united  Liberalism  of  England, 
Ireland,  and  Scotland  would  go  forward  with  one  heart  and 
one  mind  on  this  issue. 

On  the  7th  of  April,  1867,  Sir  John  Gray,  following  up 
his  motion  of  the  previous  year,  moved  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  declare  that  on  the  27th  instant  it  would  resolve 
itself  into  a  committee  on  the  Irish  Church.  Even  at  this 
date  Mr.  Gladstone  was  hesitant,  and  supported  the  "pre- 
vious question,"  with  which  the  motion  was  encountered ; 
but,  strange  to  say,  he  did  not  cast  his  vote  on  either  side. 
Two  months  later  the  coming  storm  was  sufficiently  dis- 
cerned, and  the  House  of  Lords  determined  upon  the  feeble 
expedient  of  a  "royal  commission."  It  was  moved  for  on 
the  24th  of  June,  1867,  and  appointed  on  the  30th  of  Octo- 
ber following,  Earl  Stanhope  being  chairman.  Between  the 
summer  of  1867  and  the  spring  of  1868  the  country  passed 
through  the  sharpest  crisis  of  the  Fenian  alarms :  the 
Manchester  Kescue  and  executions,  the  attempt  to  seize 
Chester  Castle,  and  the  Irish  risings,  had  one  after  another 
aroused  excitement  and  panic.  The  state  of  Ireland — be- 
tween conspiracy  and  insurrection  on  the  one  hand,  and  sus- 
pension of  all  constitutional  government  on  the  other — was 
a  European  scandal.  On  Tuesday  the  10th  of  March,  1868, 
a  great  debate  which  extended  over  four  days  was  commenced 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  a  motion  by  Mr.  J.  F.  Ma- 
guire  for  a  committee  to  consider  the  condition  of  that 
country.  It  was  upon  this  occasion  that  Mr.  Gladstone  at 
length  plunged  across  the  Kubicon.  On  the  fourth  day  of 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  415 

the  debate,  the  16th  of  March,  1868,  he  declared  that  the 
time  had  come  when  the  Irish  Church  Establishment  must 
fall.  On  his  announcement  that  he  would  forthwith  him- 
self present  the  issue  definitely  to  the  House,  both  the  reso- 
lution and  amendment  were  withdrawn ;  and  on  the  23d  of 
March  he  introduced  his  memorable  "Kesolutions."  The 
debate  formally  opened  on  the  30th  of  March,  when  minis- 
ters were  overthrown,  the  motion  to  go  into  committee  on 
the  resolutions  being  carried  by  a  vote  of  331  to  270.  The 
debate  in  the  committee  was  prosecuted  with  equal  vigor. 
It  lasted  over  eleven  nights,  closing  at  3  A.M.  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  1st  of  May,  1868,  when  the  first  resolution  was 
carried  by  a  vote  of  330  to  265.  Four  days  afterward  Mr. 
Disraeli  announced  that  ministers  had  tendered  their  resig- 
nation, but  that  the  Queen  wished  them  to  retain  office 
"  until  the  state  of  public  business  would  admit  of  a  disso- 
lution," which  would  accordingly  take  place  in  the  autumn. 
It  was  a  clever  stroke  to  hold  on  to  office  throughout  the  dis- 
solution ;  all  the  advantages  of  official  power,  usually  con- 
sidered to  be  worth  thirty  votes  in  a  general  election,  thus 
being  secured.  On  the  7th  of  May  the  second  and  third  of 
Mr.  Gladstone's  resolutions  were  carried  in  committee.  On 
the  16th,  just  as  they  were  being  finally  affirmed  by  the 
House,  Lord  Stanhope's  commission  of  the  previous  year, 
which  everybody  seemed  to  have  forgotten,  appeared  with 
their  report  on  the  Irish  Church,  recommending  the  aboli- 
tion of  half  a  dozen  bishoprics,  and  sundry  minor  "  reforms." 
It  evoked  a  shout  of  derision.  The  time  had  passed  for 
half-measures.  Like  the  abdication  of  Louis  Philippe  in 
the  revolution  of  February,  '48,  the  proposal  was  hailed  with 
a  cry  of  "  Too  late  !  too  late  !  " 

On  the  13th  of  May  Mr.  Gladstone  introduced  the  "  Sus- 
pensory Bill,"  to  prevent  new  interests  being  created  pending 
Disestablishment.  On  the  22d  it  was  read  by  a  vote  of  312 
to  258.  It  went  triumphantly  through  the  Commons,  and 
•was  brought  into  the  House  of  Lords  on  the  18th  of  June, 


416  NEW  IRELAND. 

where,  after  a  debate  of  three  days'  duration,  it  was,  on  the 
25th,  rejected  by  a  vote  of  192  to  97.  This  was  the  last 
stroke  of  an  expiring  power, — an  ebullition  of  puerile  and 
impotent  hostility. 

On  the  31st  of  July,  1868,  Parliament  was  prorogued ;  on 
the  llth  of  November  it  was  dissolved  by  proclamation,  and 
ministers  "appealed  to  the  country."  The  interval  between 
the  passage  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  resolutions  in  May  and  the 
dissolution  in  November  had  been  devoted  to  the  most  stren- 
uous preparations  for  the  struggle.  Already  the  Liberal 
party  had  begun  to  reap  the  fruits  of  their  new  policy.  Al- 
ready they  had  exchanged  disunion  for  unanimity,  weakness 
for  strength.  Tbough  office  had  been  withheld  from  them, 
power  was  once  more  theirs.  Once  more  they  had,  by  sweep- 
ing majorities,  defeated  their  opponents  in  the  parliamentary 
lists.  With  a  fierce  energy  they  now  prepared  to  overwhelm 
them  at  the  hustings. 

The  Irish  Protestants  stripped  to  the  fight  with  great 
spirit,  although  they  must  have  felt  that  they  were  on  the 
side  of  a  lost  cause.  In  Ulster,  no  doubt,  their  proceedings 
were  disfigured  by  characteristic  bombast  and  threat.  The 
line  taken  by  the  Orangemen  in  that  province  was  that  the 
coronation  oath  forbade  the  Queen  to  allow  Disestablish- 
ment, and  that  she  would  be  perjured  if  she  signed  the  bill ; 
that  it  would  be  an  overthrow  of  our  Protestant  constitu- 
tion in  Church  and  State ;  that  "the  men  of  Ulster,"  who 
had  driven  James  II.  from  the  throne  for  like  attempts,  were 
ready  and  determined  as  ever  now  in  the  same  good  cause. 
The  Eev.  Mr.  Flanagan,  chaplain  in  the  Orange  Society,  ad- 
dressing a  vast  concourse  of  his  fellow-members,  publicly 
warned  all  whom  it  might  concern  that  "the  men  of  Ulster" 
had  ere  now  kicked  a  crown  into  the  Boyne. 

No  one,  however,  attached  any  importance  to  all  this. 
For  a  long  time  it  has  been  accepted  as  the  harmless  tradi- 
tional prerogative  of  "  Ulster,"  as  the  Orange  societies  call 
themselves,  to  intimate  to  the  British  nation  that  it  is  <3n  the 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  417 

qui  vive,  and  that  when  Ulster  is  on  the  watch  England  may 
be  easy  in  her  mind ;  that  Ulster  is  and  ever  has  been  the 
mainstay  and  protector  of  the  realm  ;  that  it  was  Ulster  and 
not  England  that  made  the  glorious  Eevolution ;  and  that 
several  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Ulstermen  are  always 
ready  to  march  somewhere  against  somebody,  to  uphold 
England  as  long  as  she  behaves  herself  well  and  is  true  to 
the  principles  of  1690.* 

This,  however,  was  only  among  a  section  of  the  Irish 
Church  Protestants, — by  no  means  the  most  influential  sec- 
tion, though  it  certainly  may  be  the  noisiest.  As  a  general 
rule,  a  grave  and  earnest  spirit  was  displayed.  No  more  se- 
rious, no  more  able  defense  could  have  been  made  for  any 
political  institution  than  that  which  the  Irish  Conservatives 
put  forth  on  behalf  of  their  Church  in  1868.  Although  as 
against  the  bulk  of  their  own  countrymen  they  had  no  case, 
against  the  British  Parliament  they  certainly  established  one 
that  was  unanswerable.  Most  Englishmen  regarded  and  dis- 
cussed their  plea  solely  as  it  affected  the  one  issue  just  then 
before  them,  and  never  gave  a  thought  further  to  it  once 
that  issue  was  decided  by  the  passing  of  the  Disestablish- 
ment Bill.  But  the  arguments  upon  that  case — the  pamph- 
lets, the  speeches,  the  essays,  the  letters — were  destined  to 
have  singular  and  important  results  not  generally  foreseen  in 
England  at  the  time.  They  led  to  subsequent  events  which, 
to  the  view  of  the  ordinary  English  observer,  appeared  to  be 
totally  new,  quite  independent  of  the  question  thus  disposed 
of ;  but  beneath  the  surface  they  were  connected  with  it,  and 
arose  from  it  like  the  dip  and  crop  of  geological  strata. 

That  defense  of  the  Irish  Church  was  based  mainly  on 
the  Act  of  Union.  There  were  of  course  other  grounds, — 

*  During  the  Crimean  War  of  1854  and  the  Indian  Mutiny  of  1857 
they  were  appealed  to  in  some  Irish  newspapers  to  send  out  a  body  of 
even  two  or  three  thousand  men — a  couple  of  regiments — out  of  all 
these  "hundreds  of  thousands,"  but  not  a  corporal's  guard  volun- 
teered from  the  lodges. 
18* 


418  NEW  IRELAND. 

plenty  of  them  ;  but  one  by  one  they  were  evacuated  as  un- 
tenable under  the  fire  of  argument,  logic,  and  fact  poured 
against  them  from  the  other  side.  Here  alone  the  Church 
party  were  confessedly  in  a  strong  position.  The  fifth  article 
of  the  Act  of  Union  between  England  and  Ireland  solemnly 
declared  the  maintenance  forever  of  the  Irish  Church  estab- 
lishment, or  rather  the  incorporation  of  that  establishment 
with  the  English  as  "the  United  Church  of  England  and 
Ireland,"  to  be  a  "  fundamental  and  essential"  stipulation  and 
condition.  The  English  language  could  not  more  explicitly 
set  forth  a  solemn  and  perpetual  covenant  between  two 
parties  than  this  article  set  forth  the  contract  between  the 
episcopal  Protestants  of  Ireland  and  the  imperial  Parlia- 
ment.* By  the  Act  of  Union  there  were  to  be  not  two 
establishments  but  one  establishment, — "the  Established 
Church  of  England  and  Ireland,"  the  then  previously  exist- 
ing Irish  establishment  being  merged  and  absorbed  into  this 
one,  the  maintenance  of  which  forever  was  thus  stipulated. 
It  was  not  open  to  an  English  minister  to  treat  them  now  as 
two.  Together  as  one  they  were  to  stand  or  fall, — or  rather 
forever  to  stand  ;  but  as  to  falling,  the  Union  was  to  fall  too  if 
the  establishment  so  guaranteed  should  ever  fail  to  be  main- 
tained. Of  course  there  were  many  splendid  efforts  of  argu- 
ment and  eloquence,  as  well  as  many  learned  disquisitions 
and  much  legal  casuistry,  forthcoming  on  the  Liberal  or  Dis- 
establishment side,  to  show  how  Parliament  could  break  the 
pact  thus  relied  upon  ;  but  nothing  could  get  over  the  explicit 


*  "Article  5th.  That  the  Churches  of  England  and  Ireland  as  now 
by  law  established  be  united  into  one  Protestant  episcopal  Church, 
to  be  called  '  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ireland/  and  the 
doctrine,  worship,  discipline,  and  government  of  the  said  United 
Church  shall  be  and  shall  remain  in  full  force  forever  as  the  same  are 
now  by  law  established  for  the  Church  of  England,  and  the  continu- 
ance and  preservation  of  the  said  United  Church  as  the  established 
Church  of  England  and  Ireland  shall  be  deemed  and  taken  to  be  an 
essential  and  fundamental  part  of  the  Union." 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  419 

declaration  that  this  stipulation  was  to  be  "fundamental  and 
essential "  to  the  Union.  Once  it  was  gone  the  Union  was  no 
more.  The  Church  defenders  admittedly  had  the  best  case ; 
but  Mr.  Gladstone  had  the  logic  of  big  battalions  on  his  side. 

It  cannot  be  wondered  at  that  all  this  flung  the  Irish  Prot- 
estant mind  back  upon  the  period  at  which  the  Union  com- 
pact was  formed,  and  tended  to  raise  the  question  whether 
Irish  Protestants  would  not  have  fared  better  if  they  had  not 
entered  into  that  treaty,  but  had  made  terms  with  the  Irish 
community.  These  thoughts  and  reflections  found  frequent 
utterance  in  the  speeches  of  the  Irish  Church  party,  especially 
in  protests  addressed  by  them  to  England.  "  There  are  many 
of  us,"  they  said,  "  who,  keeping  faith  with  you  as  long  as 
you  kept  it  with  us,  have,  on  this  account,  accepted  and  acted 
on  the  theory  that  Ireland  was  merged  by  the  Union.  You 
teach  us  otherwise  now.  Do  not  complain  hereafter  if  we 
act  accordingly." 

Neither  in  Ireland  nor  in  England  was  this  latter  intima- 
tion much  believed  in  or  attended  to  at  the  time.  "  They  do 
not  mean  it,"  said  the  Irish  Catholics.  "It  is  but  an  idle 
menace,"  said  the  English  Liberals. 

It  was  indeed  an  exciting  time  when,  avowedly,  on  this  one 
question  the  three  kingdoms  were  summoned  to  the  polls  in 
the  autumn  of  18G8.  In  Ireland  the  days  of  1829  seemed 
to  have  come  again.  All  the  feelings,  passions,  antagonisms 
of  that  era  burst  forth  anew.  There  were  but  two  parties  in 
the  island, — those  who  fought  for  Disestablishment  and 
those  who  fought  against  it.  All  were  for  the  moment 
either  Liberals  or  Conservatives.  Even  the  Fenians — who 
had  spilled  the  blood  of  their  own  countrymen  and  fellow- 
Nationalists  in  putting  down  public  meetings  and  forbidding 
any  popular  manifestations  of  a  non-Separatist  character — 
fell  into  the  ranks  on  the  Liberal  side,  or  else  maintained  a 
'•'benevolent  neutrality."  The  Nation,  on  behalf  of  the 
Repeal  or  Constitutional-Nationalist  party,  though  ever 
since  1852  maintaining  an  invincible  opposition  to  Whig- 


420  NEW  IRELAND. 

Liberalism,  now  formally  proclaimed  that  in  this  great  crisis 
every  friend  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  must  march  shoulder 
to  shoulder.  The  Liberals  had  not  had  such  an  auspicious 
time  in  Ireland  for  thirty  years. 

One  day,  in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  the  door  of  my  room 
was  rather  violently  pushed  open,  and  a  friend  whom  I  knew 
to  be  actively  engaged  in  the  elections  stepped  hurriedly  in. 

"I  have  something  of  the  utmost  urgency  and  importance 
to  put  before  you,"  he  said.  "You  have  it  in  your  power 
now  not  alone  to  pay  off  the  ascendency  men  for  their  last  base 
attempt  against  you,  but  you  can  furthermore  strike  a  stun- 
ning blow  for  Disestablishment.  Are  you  ready  and  willing  ?  " 

As  he  eagerly  put  his  question  he  gave  me  a  slap  on  the 
shoulder,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Of  course  you  are." 

The  "base  attempt "  against  me  to  which  he  alluded  was  a 
proceeding  which  gave  rise  to  very  heated  feelings  in  Dublin, 
and  which  I  must  say  incensed  and  imbittered  myself  at  the 
time. 

While  in  the  previous  month  of  May  I  lay  fast  bound 
under  bolts  and  bars  as  a  political  prisoner  in  Eichmond, 
notice  was  publicly  given  of  the  intention  of  my  fellow 
members  of  the  municipal  council  to  nominate  me  as  Lord 
Mayor  for  the  ensuing  year.  Instantly  on  learning  this  fact 
I  declined,  in  the  most  positive  manner,  the  honor  thus  pro- 
posed to  be  conferred  upon  me ;  which  indeed  could  only 
have  been  meant  as  a  demonstration  of  personal  and  public 
feeling  in  view  of  my  imprisonment.  I  received,  however, 
from  the  leading  members  of  the  Conservative  party  the 
kindliest  assurances  that  if  I  wished  to  allow  the  nomination 
it  would  be  unopposed  by  them, — would  be,  in  fact,  unani- 
mous. That  these  declarations  were  given  in  good  faith, 
that  any  compliment  which  I  would  accept  and  was  in  their 
power  consistently  to  offer  would  be  readily  extended  to  me, 
was  attested  by  their  frank  and  generous  conduct  toward  me 
at  all  times  previously.  Nevertheless,  so  fierce  and  high  did 
party  feeling  run  under  the  influence  of  the  Disestablishment 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  421 

excitement,  that  in  November  an  attempt  was  made,  by  order 
of  the  Conservative  party  managers,  to  invalidate  my  seat  in 
the  council,  and  to  strike  my  name  off  the  burgess  roll,  on 
the  ground  that  I  \vas  for  registration  purposes  ''dead  in 
law,"  or  "  resident "  nowhere,  during  my  incarceration.  A 
lengthy  legal  argument  decided  the  case  in  my  favor ;  but  the 
resort  to  such  a  proceeding,  though  it  could  hardly  be  called 
"  a  blow  below  the  belt "  in  party  warfare,  had  unquestion- 
ably a  most  bitter  and  exasperating  influence  on  local  feeling. 

"  Now  you  can  pay  those  fellows  off,"  said  my  friend. 

"In  what  way?" 

"  Will  you  stand  for  a  seat  ?  " 

"  Pooh  !  I  have  answered  that  sort  of  question  often  enough 
within  the  past  five  years,  and  in  two  instances  recently  to 
your  own  knowledge.  No,  I  will  not." 

"  But  in  this  case  you  can  do  a  lasting  service  to  the  cause  ; 
you  will  either  carry  the  seat  for  yourself,  or  else  save  four 
others  we  may  otherwise  lose.  Don't  you  be  writing  in  the 
Nation  about  the  duty  of  exertion  and  sacrifice  at  this  crisis, 
if  you  yourself  will  not  do  this." 

"But,  even  apart  from  personal  disinclination,  the  Nation 
has  never  said  that  a  hard-working  journalist  is  bound  to 
spend  a  thousand  pounds  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  render- 
ing laborious  service  at  Westminster.  Men  of  ambition,  men 
of  fortune,  or  men  with  personal  advantages  in  view,  may 
do  so.  I  will  not." 

'•'I  am  instructed  to  place  fifteen  hundred  pounds  at  your 
disposal  for  your  election-expenses." 

"And  what  seat  do  you  want  me  to  contest  ?" 

"Dublin  County." 

"  Dublin  fiddlesticks  !    You  are  not  serious  ! " 

But  he  was.  The  state  of  the  case  as  he  put  it  was  this. 
The  Government  (House  of  Commons)  "whip,"  Colonel 
Taylor,  was  member  for  Dublin  County.  He  was  the  official 
chief  of  the  Tory  election  campaigners.  Deeming  his  own 
seat  perfectly  secure,— up  to  this  time  it  was  not  menaced,— 


422  NEW  IRELAND. 

his  hands  were  free,  and  he  was  making  busy  use  of  them  in 
pushing  attack  or  directing  defense  throughout  the  country. 
There  were  at  least  three  or  four  of  the  boroughs  in  the  prov- 
inces which  the  Liberals  could  carry  if  the  Tory  electioneer- 
ing head  center  could  be  called  off  to  serious  self-defense  in 
Dublin,  but  "if  not,  not."  No  trivial  attack,  no  palpable 
feint,  would  suffice.  The  "villa-voters,"  as  they  are  called, 
around  the  Irish  metropolis  are  largely  composed  of  middle- 
class  Tory  gentlemen,  or  petty  gentry  who  own  little  proper- 
ties or  rent-charges,  entitling  them  to  vote  in  distant  bor- 
oughs or  counties.  They  like  to  reside  near  "the  Coort," 
where,  as  Thackeray  puts  it,  they  may  sometimes  figure  at 
"  the  Castle"  and  see  "their  sovereign,"  leastways,  "his  Ex- 
cellency." It  was  discovered  that  if  these  friends  of  Church 
and  State  were  obliged  to  remain  at  home  to  vote  for  Colonel 
Taylor  out  of  their  residential  qualification,  three,  and  pos- 
sibly five,  constituencies,  in  which  otherwise  they  would  be 
free  to  vote,  might  be  won  by  the  Liberals.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  left  Dublin  to  its  fate,  and  went  to  the  country 
to  vote,  Colonel  Taylor  would  inevitably  be  ousted.  The 
thing  was  very  closely  examined  and  nicely  calculated.  The 
conclusion  was  obvious.  Dublin  County  must  be  attacked 
in  force.  If  carried,  the  victory  would  be  of  importance. 
If  lost,  four  or  five  other  seats  would  thereby  be  gained. 

"But  who  supplies  the  fifteen  hundred  pounds  ?"  I  in- 
quired. 

"  Ask  no  questions.  I  think  you  ought  to  have  confidence 
in  me  that  your  principles  or  your  honor  will  not  be  compro- 
mised." 

"  Not  consciously,  I  am  sure  ;  but  if  the  funds  are  supplied 
by  men  of  my  own  principles,  what  need  of  reticence  ?  If 
not,  I  have  need  to  pause." 

"  They  are  not  men  of  your  national  politics  ;  but  they  are 
as  ardent  as  you  in  this  Disestablishment  fight.  They  feel 
that  you,  and  you  alone,  can  carry  Dublin  County  at  this 
moment." 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  423 

"  On  my  own  principles  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

I  assented,  subject  to  consultation  with  some  friends.  I 
afterward  found  that  five  hundred  pounds  was  to  be  supplied 
by  a  gentleman  of  very  high  position  and  character  who  had 
been  a  member  of  the  late  Russell-Gladstone  Government, 
and  one  thousand  pounds  by  a  gentleman  of  whom  I  had 
never  previously  heard,  but  who  was  at  that  moment  a  Glad- 
stone's candidate  in  Louth  County, — Mr.  M.  O'Reilly  Dease. 
I  declined  the  proposition.  "To-day,"  I  said,  "these  gentle- 
men and  I  are  no  doubt  fighting  side  by  side,  but  to-morrow 
or  next  day  I  may  find  it  to  be  my  duty  to  differ  with  them 
or  to  censure  or  oppose  them  or  some  one  of  them.  Nay,  if 
I  carried  the  seat  I  might  have  to  vote  against  them  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  I  can't  touch  the  affair.  But  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do ;  let  some  one  else  be  found  to  stand.  I'll 
fling  myself  heartily  into  the  fight  on  his  behalf,  and  give  to 
him  all  the  influence  which  you-seem  to  think  I  could  com- 
mand, or  the  enthusiasm  I  might  excite  for  myself  in  Dublin 
County." 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  the  17th  of  Nov- 
ember I  was  roused  out  of  bed  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the 
hall-door  bell.  I  was  the  first  to  rush  to  the  door,  where 
I  found  Mr.  Meade,  solicitor  and  conducting  agent  of  Mr. 
Dease,  who  had,  he  said,  posted  by  car  all  the  way  from  the 
county  Louth  on  important  and  urgent  business  with  me. 
I  hurriedly  dressed  myself,  and  there,  through  hours  that 
reached  toward  the  dawn,  we  fought  out  the  whole  subject 
once  more.  My  humility,  never  I  suppose  too  great,  was 
barely  able  to  resist  the  "  flattering  tale  "  he  urged.  The 
gentleman  associated  with  Mr.  Dease  in  this  matter,  he  said, 
was,  as  I  knew,  qualified  to  speak  for  the  whole  of  the  Lib- 
eral party ;  and  never  would  this  important  service  be  for- 
gotten for  me.  He,  Mr.  Meade,  was  now  authorized  to  say, 
in  reference  to  my  suggestion  of  selecting  some  one  else, 
that  for  me  alone  would  the  money  be  forthcoming.  If  the 


424=  NEW  IRELAND. 

advantages  of  this  grand  stroke  were  lost  to  the  cause  of  re- 
ligious equality,  I  alone  would  be  reproached  hereafter. 

There  were  but  two  days  between  us  and  the  nomination. 
I  had  hardly  ever  felt  so  squeezed.  Eventually  I  agreed 
that  if  some  one  of  two  gentlemen  whom  I  undertook  to 
name — the  Hon.  Judge  Little  or  Mr.  P.  P.  MacSwiney — 
did  not  consent  to  fight  Colonel  Taylor,  I  would  do  so  my- 
self. On  the  other  hand,  if  either  of  them  undertook  to 
stand,  the  money  was  to  be  at  their  service  as  freely  as  it 
would  have  been  at  mine.  "We  lost  a  day  vainly  trying  to 
persuade  Judge  Little,  and  Mr.  MacSwiney  could  give  us 
no  answer  till  he  had  consulted  his  Grace  the  Archbishop 
of  Dublin.  As  by  this  time  it  seemed  I  was  "in  for  it,"  I 
sat  down  and  wrote  out  my  election  address  to  the  free  and 
independent  electors,  so  as  to  have  it  ready  for  publication. 
Mr.  MacSwiney 's  final  reply  was  to  reach  us  at  the  Central 
Liberal  Committee  offices,  St.  Andrew's  Street,  before  10 
P.M.  I  found  the  room  crowded  with  the  elite  of  the  Irish 
Liberal  party  :  men  usually  among  the  gravest  in  sober  com- 
mercial or  professional  circles  were  now  as  full  of  excitement 
as  the  youngest  enthusiast.  The  coup  in  the  county  was 
the  great  topic.  Mr.  MacSwiney  came  in.  He  was  rather 
disposed  to  stand,  but — he  hesitated.  There  was,  he 
pleaded,  no  time  for  the  requisite  arrangements  or  prepara- 
tions. 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"  I  have  not  thought  about  a  proposer  or  seconder." 

"Here  are  half  a  dozen  in  the  room,"  said  Mr.  Heron. 

"  There  is  no  time  to  have  friends  at  Kilmainham  in  the 
morning  :  and  '  the  show  of  hands'  is  a  great  deal." 

"Trust  me  for  that,"  said  Mr.  Devitt. 

"  Then  I  have  not  my  election  address  written,  and  it 
ought  to  be  in  the  morning  papers." 

"Here  is  one  for  you,"  said  I,  pulling  my  own  out  of  my 
pocket  and  thrusting  it  into  his  hand. 

"  I'd  like  to  read  it  over,  and  submit  it  to  a  few " 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  425 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  man  !  sign  your  name  there,  and  let  us 
instantly  have  the  printers  at  work." 

He  was  good  enough  to  say  it  was  "just  the  thing."  Any- 
how there  was  no  time  to  compose  another ;  and  on  the  elec- 
tion address  so  curiously  supplied  Dublin  County  election  of 
1868  was  contested. 

Some  of  us  did  not  get  to  bed  at  all  that  night,  there  was 
so  much  to  be  done  in  the  few  hours  at  our  command. 
Richard  Devitt,  with  a  mysterious  air,  pulled  on  his  top- 
coat and  said  he  must  go  oft  to  secure  a  sufficient  attend- 
ance of  "the  nobility  and  gentry  of  our  noble  county"  for 
the  much-desired  "show  of  hands."  But  I  noted  that  it 
was  to  the  unaristocratic  locality  of  Ringsend  that  he  drove 
for  that  purpose.  I  understood  it  all  next  morning  when  I 
found  myself  addressing  as  "Gentlemen  electors  of  this 
great  county,"  a  court-house  full  of  the  most  cut-throat- 
looking  rascals  it  had  ever  been  my  lot  to  behold.  Colonel 
Taylor  drove  up  to  the  hustings  at  ten  in  the  morning, 
looking  decidedly  fluttered.  He  had  heard  the  news  ;  he 
had  just  read  Mr.  MacSwiney's  address  in  the  Freeman; 
yet  he  would  fain  think  it  all  a  practical  joke,  merely  an  at- 
tempt to  "take  a  rise  out  of  him."  About  a  score  of  his 
friends,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  in  gala  attire,  came  on  the 
scene,  to  witness  as  they  thought  the  pleasing  sight  of  a 
"walk-over."  At  first  they  were  utterly  unable  to  compre- 
hend what  they  saw  and  heard  on  entering  the  court. 
When  they  gathered  the  astounding  fact  that  a  "  Radical " 
candidate  was  about  to  be  proposed  there  and  then,  their  in- 
dignation was  ungovernable.  The  Tory  magnates  waxed 
positively  furious  with  rage.  The  assemblage  of  Mr. 
Devitt's  "nobility  and  gentry"  in  the  body  of  the  court 
(the  whole  lot  costing  us  three  pounds  ten  and  sixpence) 
was  the  most  cruel  stroke  of  all.  They  secured  us  not  only 
the  show  of  hands, — such  hands  ! — but  the  shout  of  voices, 
— oh,  what  voices  !  The  fellows  seemed  to  think  we  ought  to 
give  them  the  word  to  seize  Colonel  Taylor  and  his  friends 


426  NEW  IRELAND. 

bodily  and  cast  them  into  the  mill-race  close  by.  We  made 
great  display  of  "moderating"  them,  well  knowing  that  the 
most  maddening  wound  we  could  inflict  on  our  haughty  op- 
ponents was  the  idea  of  being  beholden  to  us  for  a  hearing 
on  that  hustings  where  for  generations  their  class  had  ruled 
omnipotent.  If  anything  was  required  to  satisfy  me  of  the 
absurdity  of  open  nominations  and  hustings  and  "show  of 
hands,"  it  was  supplied  by  that  scene. 

Into  the  few  days  within  which  the  county  had  to  be  polled 
the  Liberals  put  the  concentrated  work  and  energy  of  their 
metropolitan  forces.  It  was  only  on  the  day  after  the  nomi- 
nation that  the  genuine  earnestness  of  the  attempt  was  real- 
ized by  the  Church  party.  Then  almost  a  panic  prevailed, 
and  "not  a  man  can  be  spared  "  was  the  watchword.  This 
meant  for  us  that  our  victory  would  be  elsewhere  ;  and  so  it 
•was.  When  on  the  polling  day  Colonel  Taylor  and  Mr. 
Hamilton  were  going  in  triumphantly,  they  seemed  to  wonder 
why  we  were  not  crestfallen,  or  rather  why  we  seemed  so  jubi- 
lant. They  did  not  know  that  we  had  in  our  pockets  tele- 
grams proclaiming  that  our  diversion  in  Dublin  County  had 
saved  or  won  some  half  a  dozen  seats  elsewhere  for  the  cause 
of  religious  equality. 

In  three  weeks  the  battle  was  virtually  over,  and  Mr.  Disraeli 
hauled  down  his  flag.  On  the  2d  of  December  he  gave  up 
the  seals,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  was  called  to  office.  On  the 
9th  the  new  cabinet  was  installed  ;  on  the  next  day  Parlia- 
ment opened.  By  the  29th  the  ministerial  re-elections  were 
over,  and  an  adjournment  took  place  to  the  16th  of  February 
following. 

On  the  1st  of  March,  1869,  Mr.  Gladstone  introduced  the 
bill  to  disestablish  the  Irish  Church.  On  the  18th  the  de- 
bate on  the  second  reading  commenced.  It  closed  on  the 
23d,  when  ministers  were  found  to  have  the  overwhelming 
majority  of  118  votes,  or  368  to  250.  On  the  31st  of  May 
the  bill  passed  the  third  reading  by  a  vote  of  361  to  247. 

For  a  time  there  was  intense  anxiety  and  apprehension  as 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  427 

to  the  probable  action  of  the  House  of  Lords,  in  which  it  was 
well  known  there  was  a  majority  hostile  to  the  measure,  if 
only  they  dared  to  vote  against  it.  Rumors  of  conflict  be- 
tween the  two  chambers,  of  a  probable  prorogation  and 
"creation  of  peers,"  and  other  disquieting  stories,  abounded. 
In  Ireland  we  felt  confident  the  Lords  would  throw  out  the 
bill ;  and  we  looked  for  serious  results.  A  consciousness  of 
the  danger  involved  in  such  a  course,  however,  brought  wis- 
dom to  the  peers.  "  July  the  Twelfth,"  as  the  Orangemen's 
ballad  has  it,  they  read  the  bill  a  third  and  last  time  ;  and 
all  was  over.  Disestablishment  was  an  accomplished  fact. 
Fuit  Ilium. 

On  the  26th  July,  1869,  the  Irish  Church  Bill  received 
the  royal  assent.  Protests,  solemn,  earnest,  passionate, — de- 
nunciations loud  and  long  and  bitter, — burst  from  the  van- 
quished defenders  ;  but  their  exclamations  were  drowned  in 
the  general  rejoicing.  The  Dissenting  churches  gave  praise 
that  the  day  of  subjection  was  at  an  end.  A  Triduum  was 
celebrated  in  the  Catholic  Pro-Cathedral  of  Dublin.  The 
municipal  council  of  the  Irish  metropolis,  with  unusual  for- 
mality and  impressiveness,  voted  an  address  of  thanks  and 
congratulation  to  Mr.  Gladstone.*  Everywhere  men  realized 
that  a  great  event — almost  a  revolution — had  occurred.  But 
few  indeed  saw  at  the  moment  that  the  indirect,  or  rather 
reflex,  action  and  influence  of  that  event  was  to  effect  the  im- 
portant changes  which  ensued.  The  overthrow  of  religious 
ascendency  in  Ireland  was  a  great  work  ;  but  another  achieve- 
ment came  with  it.  For  the  first  time  in  history  the  English 
People  were  set  a  thinking — inquiring,  reading,  investigating, 
and  reasoning — upon  the  general  Irish  question.  Previously 
they  had  turned  away  from  the  worry  and  heart-break  of  such 
a  perplexing  and  vexatious  study,  and  gave  a  proxy  to  their 

*  If  I  say  that  it  faithfully  expressed  the  enthusiastic  feeling  of  the 
Irish  people  at  the  time,  I  may  perhaps  be  guilty  of  undue  partiality, 
inasmuch  as  the  framing  of  its  terms  was  entirely  committed  to  me, 
and  my  draft  was  adopted  by  acclamation. 


428  NEW  IRELAND. 

Government  to  think  for  them  and  act  for  them  in  dealing 
with  Ireland.  What  the  Government  told  them,  they  ac- 
cepted uninquiringly  ;  what  the  Government  asked  of  them, 
they  gave  with  alacrity.  They  thought  it  hard  that  they 
should  always  have  to  be  doing  something  for  Ireland,  and 
always  needing  to  punish  or  repress  her ;  but  "  the  Govern- 
ment knew  what  was  best. "  The  Disestablishment  campaign, 
however,  filled  England  with  genuine  interest  in  Irish  his- 
tory ;  and  Englishmen — that  is,  the  bulk  of  the  people — 
awoke  to  the  idea  that  the  Irish  were  not,  perhaps,  after  all 
a  wholly  intractable  and  perverse  race,  nor  wholly  accounta- 
ble for  the  failings  and  shortcomings  they  displayed.  In 
short,  the  Newspaper  and  the  School  had  been  doing  their 
work  east  as  well  as  west  of  St.  George's  Sea ;  and  side  by 
side  with  the  New  Ireland  a  New  England  also  had  arisen  ! 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

LONGFOBD. 

THE  Church  was  disestablished.  England  had  "broken 
with  Irish  Protestantism."  In  the  course  of  the  great  cam- 
paign we  had  heard  what  Irish  Protestants  in  this  event 
would  do  ;  and  now  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  them.  They 
had  made  a  brave  but  unavailing  fight,  and  if  they  now  gave 
way  to  the  language  of  mortification  and  resentment,  they 
had,  from  their  own  point  of  view,  many  reasons  for  such 
feelings.  Some  of  the  Church  Conservative  journals  were 
very  bitter.  The  pacification  of  Ireland,  the  banishment  of 
disaffection,  had  been  largely  relied  upon  as  an  object  and 
prophesied  as  a  result  of  Disestablishment ;  and  now  the 
fondest  hope  of  the  exasperated  Church  party  seemed  to  be 
that  the  ministerial  arguments  and  expectations  in  this  re- 
spect might  be  utterly  falsified.  Every  symptom  of  disorder 
or  disturbance  was  hailed  with  delight.  Anything  like  a  re- 
vival of  Fenianism  would  have  been  a  godsend.  As  it  was, 
every  ebullition  of  disaffection  or  Nationalism  that  appeared 
was  magnified  and  made  the  most  of.  The  Fenians,  to  their 
amazement,  found  themselves  referred  to  as  "fine  manly  fel- 
lows," "  more  honest  any  day  than  that  caitiff  Gladstone." 
The  movement  in  favor  of  amnesty  to  the  political  prison- 
ers, which  sprung  up  about  this  time,  was  the  chief  consola- 
tion forthcoming.  "  Behold  ! "  cried  the  Express  and  Mail, 
"you  thought  to  tranquilize  Ireland  by  sacrificing  our 
Church  ;  see  how  you  have  failed  ! "  Every  denunciation 
hurled  by  amnesty  speakers  at  the  Government  was  gleefully 
reproduced.  Every  threatening  letter  posted  on  a  bailiff's 

429 


430  NEW  IRELAND. 

door  was  paraded.  In  fact,  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  not  a 
blackthorn  flourished  nor  a  hen-roost  robbed  in  all  the  land 
that  some  Tory  paper  did  not  quote  the  awful  fact  as  one  of 
the  "fruits  of  Disestablishment." 

Amidst  all  this  unreason  and  absurdity  of  irritation,  how- 
ever, a  serious  growth  of  thought  was  silently  working  its 
way  in  the  minds  of  many  Irish  Protestants.  The  recent 
debates  and  arguments  on  the  status  and  rights  of  the  Irish 
Church  had  cast  men  back  a  good  deal  on  the  Union  period 
wherein  those  rights  were  laid  down  under  covenant.  Neces- 
sarily the  debates  in  the  Irish  Parliament  were  read  up. 
The  speeches  of  Grattan  and  Plunket  and  Saurin  and  Cur- 
ran  were  constantly  referred  to.  Irish  Protestants  felt  a  glow 
of  pride  as  the  reflection  came  that  these  men  were  their  co- 
religionists. While  the  Church  newspapers  were  noisily 
railing  at  Gladstone,  and  threatening  England  with  an  Ire- 
land less  satisfied  than  ever,  a  serioiTS  purpose  was  forming 
in  the  minds  of  men  who  contemplated  the  situation  from  a 
higher  level  than  that  of  a  mere  party  platform.  It  may  be 
doubted  that  there  ever  was  a  time  since  1800  when  Irish 
Protestants  as  a  body  believed  that  Irish  affairs  could  be 
better  understood  and  cared  for  in  a  London  legislature  than 
in  an  Irish  parliament.  Concern  for  their  rights,  privileges, 
and  possessions  as  a  minority  in  the  midst  of  a  dangerous 
Catholic  majority  was  the  real  reason  why  they  supported 
the  Union  system.  In  that  system,  absorbed  into  the  triple 
kingdom  as  a  whole,  they  were  a  majority ;  endowed  with 
the  strength,  the  status,  the  rights  of  a  majority.  The  worst 
blunders  or  shortcomings  of  London  legislation  were  bet- 
ter for  them,  and  more  acceptable,  than  the  hazards  to 
their  religion  and  property  involved  in  an  Irish  parlia- 
ment returned  and  dominated  by  "the  priests."  Were  they 
but  reasonably  assured  against  separation  from  the  empire, 
against  confiscation  of  their  properties,  and  against  "the 
yoke  of  Rome,"  they  would  be  found  almost  to  a  man  de- 
manding the  restoration  of  the  national  legislature  in  Col- 


LONGFORD.  431 

lege  Green.  Ah,  if  these  Irish  millions  were  not  so  blindly 
led  by  their  priests  in  politics,  what  a  movement  might  now 
be  possible  !  But  no  man  durst  trust  himself  to  a  parlia- 
ment elected  by  fanatics  who  would  vote  black  white  at  the 
bidding  of  their  clergy  ! 

Such  were  the  thoughts  surging  through  the  minds  of 
many  Irish  Protestants  in  the  autumn  of  18G9.  Suddenly  a 
remarkable  event  challenged  their  wonder,  and  enabled  them 
to  realize  the  fact  that  they  lived  no  longer  in  the  Ireland  of 
old  times. 

In  December,  1869,  Mr.  Gladstone  raised  to  the  peerage 
Colonel  Fulke  Greville-Nugent,  of  Clonyn,  county  West- 
meath,  member  of  Parliament  for  Longford  County.  Col- 
onel Greville-Nugent  was  much  respected  as  a  landlord,  and 
as  a  Liberal  in  politics  had  discharged  his  public  duties  fairly 
and  honorably.  For  thirty  years  Longford  was  a  seat  which, 
to  put  it  plainly,  was  in  the  gift  of  the  Catholic  clergy. 
They  had  in  fierce  struggle  wrested  it  from  the  Conservative 
landlords  in  O'ConnelPs  time,  and  firmly  held  it  ever  since. 
They  almost  invariably  fought  along  with  and  for  the  Liberal 
landlords ;  but  that  they  could  beat  these  as  well  as  the  Tory 
magnates  they  proved  in  1862,  when  they  rejected  Colonel 
White  (now  Lord  Annaly),  a  long-time  friend  and  leading 
Liberal,  because  he  accepted  office  under  Lord  Palmerston. 
They  entertained  the  warmest  regard  for  Colonel  Greville- 
Nugent, — a  Protestant,  it  may  be  noted  ;  and  it  is  said  that 
before  he  accepted  the  coronet  he  was  privately  assured  in 
their  name  that,  as  a  token  of  their  feelings  toward  him,  his 
seat  for  the  county  would  be  passed  to  any  member  of  his 
family  he  might  name.  He  selected  one  of  his  younger 
sons,  Captain  Eeginald  Greville-Nugent,  to  succeed  him.  It 
never  once  occurred  to  the  new  peer  or  to  the  Catholic  clergy 
that  this  mode  of  giving  away  parliamentary  seats,  though 
at  one  time  not  only  possible  but  customary  in  Ireland,  be- 
longed to  an  order  of  things  that  had  silently  passed  away. 

Shortly  before,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  elections  on 


432  NEW  IRELAND. 

record  had  taken  place  in  Tipperaxy.  In  the  summer  of 
1869  the  agitation  for  an  amnesty  to  the  Fenian  prisoners 
had,  from  a  very  modest  beginning,  attained  to  formidable 
power.  Monster  meetings,  yery  nearly  as  vast  as  those  which 
O'Connell  addressed  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  now  as- 
sembled to  hear  Mr.  Butt  plead  in  earnest  tones  for  the  men 
who  had  loved  Ireland  "not  wisely  but  too  well."  When  in 
the  autumn  news  came  that  Government  had  formally  refused 
the  appeal  for  clemency,  there  was  considerable  exasperation. 
A  touch  of  their  former  violence  and  intolerance  seemed  to 
return  to  the  Fenians  j  for,  making  ungrateful  requital  of 
the  popular  sympathy  they  had  received,  they  invaded  and 
broke  up  several  Tenant-Right  meetings,  refusing  to  allow 
any  such  demonstrations,  seeing  that  those  for  the  prisoners 
had  been  fruitless  !  At  this  juncture  a  vacancy  was  created 
in  the  representation  of  Tipperary  by  the  death  of  Mr. 
Charles  Moore  of  Mooresfort.  There  was  some  perplexity 
and  delay  in  selecting  a  popular  or  Liberal  candidate  ;  and 
at  length  Mr.  Denis  Caulfield  Heron,  Q.C.,  was  invited,  and 
consented,  to  stand.  Almost  at  the  last  moment  some  one 
suggested  that  it  would  be  a  very  effective  rejoinder  to  the 
refusal  of  amnesty  if  one  of  the  prisoners  were  elected  to  the 
vacant  seat !  This  was  just  the  sort  of  proceeding  calculated 
to  strike  the  fancy  of  Tipperary.  Although  at  first  the  prop- 
osition was  treated  more  as  a  joke  than  a  reality,  it  was 
taken  up  seriously  by  the  "advanced  Nationalists"  in  the 
county  ;  and  0 'Donovan  Eossa,  as  the  most  defiant  of  "  the 
men  in  jail,"  was  chosen  to  be  the  candidate.  The  Catholic 
clergy  tried  to  dissuade  the  people  from  what  they  considered 
a  fruitless  and  absurd  proceeding  ;  but  to  vote  against  Rossa 
seemed  like  a  stroke  at  amnesty,  and  the  bulk  of  the  electors 
decided  to  abstain  or  else  cast  a  voice  for  "  the  prisoner-can- 
didate." Out  of  twelve  thousand  on  the  register  only  about 
two  thousand  came  to  the  poll ;  but  of  these  a  decided  ma- 
jority— 1054  to  898 — voted  for  Rossa.  Within  a  few  days  of 
the  Tipperary  Rossa  election  came  the  Longford  vacancy. 


LONGFORD.  433 

There  were  rumors  that  in  Longford  the  example  of  Tipper- 
ary  would  be  followed  ;  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  for  a 
moment  contemplated  by  the  friends  of  the  prisoners  to  put 
forward  Thomas  Clarke  Luby  as  candidate.  Men  supposed 
to  be  especially  acquainted  with  popular  feeling  in  Longford 
were  consulted,  and  they  emphatically  declared  that,  while 
sympathy  for  amnesty  was  strong,  anything  like  a  Fenian 
demonstration  would  be  entirely  opposed  to  the  general  sen- 
timent. It  would  be  violently  resisted  by  the  Catholic  clergy, 
and  be  regretted  or  condemned  by  non-Fenian  Nationalists. 
To  a  young  gentleman  of  Longford  town,  Mr.  James  Behan 
Murtagh,  a  member  of  an  extensive  and  wealthy  manufac- 
turing firm  in  the  west  of  Ireland,  this  decision,  and  all  the 
important  results  that  followed  upon  it,  were  most  largely 
due.  He  was  widely  popular  in  the  county.  Whether  as  a 
member  of  the  county  cricket  club,  bat  in  hand,  or  at  a 
hurling-match  with  the  peasantry,  or  twirling  a  blackthorn 
in  a  "little  misunderstanding "  at  fair  or  market,  he  was 
equally  at  home.  He  took  strong  ground  against  any  course 
that  would  inevitably  challenge  a  conflict  with  the  clergy, 
but  was  decidedly  for  unfurling  the  National  flag.  Why 
not,  he  asked,  give  up  this  idea  of  running  a  Fenian  pris- 
oner, and  put  forward  a  National  candidate  around  whom  all 
might  rally  in  the  name  of  Ireland  ?  Why  not  start  John 
Martin  ?  The  esteem  in  which  he  was  generally  held,  his 
pure  and  unsullied  character,  his  sufferings  and  sacrifices, 
marked  him  out  as  a  man  by  whose  side  patriotic  Irishmen, 
priests  and  laymen,  would  readily  stand.  The  fact  of  Mr. 
Martin's  absence  in  America  at  the  moment,  Mr.  Murtagh 
pointed  out,  would  but  make  the  compliment  to  him  more 
striking  and  the  political  event  more  significant. 

The  suggestion  was  accepted.  The  idea  of  proposing  a 
Fenian  prisoner  was  relinquished.  The  men  of  Longford 
undertook  to  propose  Mr.  Martin, — the  extreme  party  not 
only  acquiescing  but  promising  to  work  for  him  as  heartily 
as  for  a  man  of  their  own.  The  proceedings  had  reached 
19 


434  NEW  IRELAND. 

this  stage  before  I  was  made  aware  of  them.  One  morning 
in  the  first  week  of  December,  1869,  I  received  a  hurried 
dispatch  from  J.  B.  Murtagh  :  "John  Martin  is  to  be  our 
man.  We  announce  you,  as  his  most  trusted  friend,  to  ap- 
pear on  his  behalf.  Help  us  all  you  can.  Come  down  at 
once."  Next  post  came  a  letter  to  say  they  were  about  to 
wait  upon  the  Catholic  clergy,  whose  best  wishes  they  were 
sanguine  of  securing.  Their  astonishment  was  great  on 
learning  that  these  reverend  gentlemen  had  some  idea  of 
putting  forward  young  Mr.  Greville-Nugent.  The  fact  that 
they  wrere  virtually  pledged  to  him — had  promised  him  the 
seat — did  not  come  out  for  a  few  days  subsequently.  Here 
arose  a  singular  complication,  a  conflict  that  was  eventually 
carried  to  the  bitterest  extremes.  It  is  very  likely  that  had 
the  clergy  thought  any  considerable  section  of  the  laity 
desired  the  return  of  John  Martin  they  would  have  hesitated 
— some  of  them  would — before  they  involved  themselves  in 
the  complimentary  bestowal  of  the  seat  on  Mr.  Nugent.  It 
is  more  than  probable  that  had  the  National  party  known  at 
first  how  far  the  clergy  were  really  committed  to  Mr.  Nugent 
they  would  have  "  thought  three  times  "  before  they  raised  a 
contest,  incensed  as  they  might  feel  at  such  a  proceeding. 
Which  side  was  now  to  give  way  ?  "  Oh,"  said  the  Nation- 
alists, "on  the  public  announcement  of  John  Martin's  can- 
didature the  opinion  of  the  country  will  so  unmistakably 
manifest  itself  that  the  monstrous  idea  of  pitting  an  un- 
known youth  against  him  will  be  abandoned."  "  Oh,"  said 
the  priests,  "we  are  the  depositaries  of  power.  The  seat  is 
in  our  hands.  The  moment  we  put  forward  our  man,  the 
hopelessness  of  opposing  him  will  be  so  patent  that  the 
others  will  retire." 

I  saw  what  was  likely  to  arise  out  of  this  difficulty,  and  I 
made  great  exertions  to  compose  it.  Not  that  I  could  be  for 
a  moment  indifferent  between  the  two  candidates ;  but  I 
hoped  that  by  temperately  putting  before  the  clergy  the 
serious  issues  involved,  they  would  either  withdraw  Mr. 


LONGFORD.  435 

Nugent,  or,  in  a  friendly  spirit,  let  the  people  poll  for  John 
Martin  if  so  minded.*  Unfortunately,  they  took  a  high  and 
haughty  tone.  For  sufficient  reasons  they  had  selected  Mr. 
Nugent,  and  they  would  put  down  any  attempt  to  thwart 
their  action.  This  Martin  candidature,  they  said,  was 
"Fenianism,"  and  they  would  crush  it  under  foot.  The 
priests  of  Longford  would  show  their  power. 

"But  even  suppose  you  vote  for  your  man,  and  support 
him  fairly,  you  surely  do  not  mean  that  we  who  love  and 
revere  John  Martin,  and  wish  to  see  this  honor  conferred  on 
him,  are  not  free  to  push  his  candidature  ?  " 

"  We  will  let  you  see  that,"  said  the  clergy. 

Here  in  the  face  of  the  empire  was  an  issue  raised  the  im- 
portance of  which  to  Ireland  was  serious.  Here  was  the 
critical  moment  to  verify  or  refute  the  story  that  Irish 
Catholics  would  blindly  vote  at  the  priests'  dictation.  No 
one  raised  any  question  as  to  the  public  and  personal  merits 
of  the  two  candidates.  The  idea  of  weighing  young  Mr. 
Greville-Nugent  against  John  Martin  was  too  absurd,  and  it 
was  not  attempted  on  either  side.  The  whole  case  was  nar- 
rowed to  the  one  point, — accepting  Mr.  Greville-Nugent 
because  the  priests  had  so  determined  it,  rejecting  John 
Martin  at  the  bidding  of  the  Longford  clergy. 

"Fight,  fight !  "  I  cried,  when  the  answer  of  haughty  de- 
fiance was  reported  to  me.  "  It  will  be  a  war  as  cruel  as  one 
between  father  and  son,  brother  and  brother  ;  but  we  must 
fight  to  the  last  gasp.  No  retreat,  no  compromise  now. 
These  men  do  not  see  that  surrender  on  our  part  would  cor- 
roborate one  of  the  most  fatal  imputations  against  them  and 
against  us,  namely,  that  we  would  'vote  black  white'  at 
their  bidding.  If  we  yield  on  this  point,  what  Protestant 
Irishman  can  trust  us  as  fellow-citizens  ?  If  we  poll  but  a 


*  This  latter  course  was  adopted  with  the  best  results  hy  the  Catho- 
lic clergy  of  Meath  in  an  almost  identical  difficulty  some  time  after- 
ward. 


436  NEW  IRELAND. 

dozen  men,  we  must  meet  this  issue  foot  to  foot.  It  is  not 
now  so  much  a  question  of  returning  John  Martin,  as  of  as- 
serting an  important  public  principle." 

It  was  with  a  good  deal  of  incredulity  that  Protestants 
watched  the  early  stages  of  this  Longford  business.  That  it 
would  end  in  the  submission  of  the  National  party  to  the 
clergy  they  quite  concluded.  That  the  people  would  perse- 
vere, that  the  Catholic  laity  would,  for  an  Ulster  Presby- 
terian candidate,  dare  to  encounter  their  own  clergy  on  the 
hustings  and  in  the  polling-booth,  was  something  too  im- 
probable to  be  seriously  dwelt  upon.  Had  not  the  Catholic 
priests  for  thirty  years  been  virtually  the  returning  officers 
of  Irish  Liberal  constituencies  ?  The  Catholic  gentry  had 
no  doubt  occasionally  disputed  supremacy  with  them ;  but 
when  had  the  rank  and  file  of  the  electors  themselves  ever 
claimed  the  right  to  independent  action  ?  Was  it  not  an 
accepted  custom  in  Irish  politics  that  the  priests  selected  the 
candidate,  and  the  people  voted  at  their  bidding  ? 

One  section  of  the  community,  beyond  all  others,  fastened 
on  Longford  an  eager  gaze,  watched  every  move  of  this  sin- 
gular event  with  breathless  anxiety.  It  was  to  be  for  them  the 
solution  of  a  critical  problem,  the  decision  of  a  momentous 
question.  Irish  Protestants,  whom  recent  events  had  so  pow- 
erfully affected,  had  been  brought  as  it  were  to  the  very 
threshold  of  National  opinions,  looked  on  amazed  and  ex- 
pectant. Could  it  be  that  their  terror  of  "priestly  dicta- 
tion "  was  about  to  be  dispelled  ?  Could  it  be  that  on  a 
purely  political  issue  Catholics  would  claim  and  assert,  even 
against  their  own  clergy,  an  independence  of  action  which 
Protestants  themselves  could  not  exceed  ?  If  this  were  so, 
.an  important  political  combination  was  near  at  hand. 

It  was  so.  Neither  the  Irish  Protestants  nor  the  Longford 
Catholic  clergy  were  fully  conscious  of  the  change  from  the 
Ireland  of  1840  to  the  Ireland  of  1870. 

The  quarrels  of  long-time  friends  are  often  the  most  bitter 
of  all.  This  contest  between  priest  and  people  was  fought 


LONGFORD.  437 

with  a  fierceness  which  surpassed  the  struggles  between  Tory 
landlordism  and  popular  power.  The  clergy  put  forth  their 
utmost  exertions ;  and  they  carried  with  them  the  bulk  of 
the  rural  electors.  The  Catholic  Liberals  among  the  gentry 
of  course  were  with  Lord  Greville  to  a  man.  The  local  Con- 
servatives, perplexed  and  half  incredulous,  were  neutral,  or 
else  supported  the  Martin  side.  Some  of  them  took  this 
latter  course  to  spite  the  priests  and  Mr.  Gladstone  ;  many 
did  so  from  sincere  and  honorable  sympathy  with  the  princi- 
ples of  tolerance  and  civil  liberty  which  in  their  judgment 
underlay  the  conflict. 

I  had  been  all  my  life  on  the  side  of  the  Catholic  clergy. 
On  nearly  every  public  issue  in  Irish  politics  till  now  I  had 
fought  where  they  led.  I  was  "Ultramontane"  in  the  most 
extreme  application  of  that  term.  I  honored  and  admired 
the  spirit  in  which  on  the  whole  the  Catholic  priests  had 
exercised  the  political  leadership  or  influence  which  historical 
circumstances  had  placed  in  their  hands.  I  had  resisted,  and 
would  ever  resist,  attempts  to  exclude  them  from  political 
action,  or  to  deny  their  right  to  be  largely  deferred  to  in 
public  affairs.  All  I  hoped  from  the  Longford  clergy  now 
was  that  they  would,  on  the  question  of  John  Martin  or 
Eeginald  Greville-Nugent,  grant  us  the  right  to  differ.  My 
hope  was  rudely  dispelled.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
myself  denounced  by  them  as  a  "Garibaldian,"  an  "Orange- 
man." Of  course  to  none  but  the  most  ignorant  of  the 
population  could  such  stories  be  told ;  and  these,  poor  fel- 
lows, their  feelings  intensely  aroused  by  the  idea  of  "  Dublin 
Orangemen  "  coming  to  "  attack  "  their  clergy,  burst  upon 
the  Martin  meetings  in  savage  fury.  "  Away  with  the  Gari- 
baldian crew  who  want  to  murder  our  clergy  !  Greville  for- 
ever ! " 

The  mobs  were  not  all  on  one  side  ;  nor  was  all  the  vio- 
lence of  language  and  action.  The  county  from  end  to  end 
was  the  scene  of  disorder  and  conflict.  The  people,  however, 
seemed  to  take  to  it  rather  familiarly.  Work  was  suspended. 


438  KEW  IRELAND. 

Blackthorns  and  shillelaghs  were  in  request.  Sticking-plaster 
was  extensively  worn.  It  was  hazardous  to  walk  street  or 
highway  at  night,  as  some  patrolling  party  was  sure  to  be 
encountered,  who  sang  out  "  Greville  ?"  or  "  Martin  ?"  If 
the  wayfarer  responded  sympathetically,  all  was  well.  If 
not,  a  scientific  touch  on  the  cranium  laid  him  recumbent  to 
study  the  pending  political  issues.  My  brother  informed  me 
that  he  found  "  committee-rooms  "  were  places  where  piles  of 
«'  weapons  "  were  kept  for  defensive  and  offensive  operations. 
One  night  he  arrived  at  the  village  of  Ballymahon,  to  meet 
the  "  committee  "  and  go  over  the  registry.  The  "  committee  " 
had  all,  evidently,  been  through  the  surgery.  They  dis- 
cussed whisky  punch,  and  told  of  some  "  beautiful  practice  " 
they  had  seen  on  the  part  of  a  few  "Rathcline  boys"  a  day 
or  two  previously.  Suddenly  there  was  a  quick  and  heavy 
tramping  on  the  stairs.  The  door  of  the  room  was  burst 
open,  and  young  John  Murtagh  rushed  in.  Deigning  no 
glance  or  greeting,  he  tore  off  his  top-coat,  exclaiming, 
"Sticks!  Sticks!" 

In  an  instant  every  committee-man  had  sprung  to  a  corner 
of  the  room  where  some  "neat  timber"  stood,  seized  a  black- 
thorn, and  dashed  down-stairs  and  into  the  street.  For  half 
an  hour  or  so  it  was  evident  that  stiff  work  was  going  on. 
Then,  as  usual,  most  vexatiously,  the  police  interfered  and 
interrupted  an  exceedingly  satisfactory  encounter.* 

*At  the  town  of  Qranard  a  sort  of  challenge  battle  between  the  Gre- 
villites  and  Martinites  was  to  come  off.  The  parties  assembled,  to  the 
number  of  two  or  three  thousand  on  each  side  ;  but  to  their  great  dis- 
comfiture a  large  force  of  foot  and  mounted  police  occupied  the  town, 
and  so  marched  and  countermarched  as  to  prevent  the  combatants  from 
getting  within  reach  of  each  other.  After  the  day  had  been  nearly 
"  wasted"  in  this  way,  the  leaders  on  each  side  contrived  to  throw  sig- 
nals of  parley  to  one  another.  They  quietly  slipped  away  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  met  in  a  "boreen"  close  by. 

"This  is  too  bad." 

"Oh,  shameful!" 

"No  chance  with  these  peeler  fellows." 


LONGFORD.  439 

In  every  Irish  election  the  street  ballad-singer  is  as  impor- 
tant a  power  as  the  platform  orator  or  the  village  band,  and 
I  never  knew  an  Irish  election  poet  that  did  not  invoke  the 
<  <  Shan  Van  Vocht, "  Literally  this  phrase  means  the  "  Poor 
Old  Woman,"  the  words  poor  and  old  being  applied  in  a 
tenderly  sympathetic  sense;  but  for  centuries  the  "Shan 
Van  Vocht "  has  been  a  figurative  allusion  to  Ireland,  and 
used  as  a  refrain  in  popular  ballads  innumerable.  Of  course 
the  streets  and  roads,  the  fairs  and  markets,  of  Longford 
resounded  with  ballads,  chiefly  "  Martinite,"  the  bard  oc- 
casionally coming  in  for  a  touch  of  martyrdom.  One  of 
these  lays,  the  production  of  a  local  genius,  has  survived  in 
my  possession,  and  I  quote  a  few  sample  verses  : 

"  Still  on  nomination  day, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
Faith  'twas  better  than  a  play, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ; 
On  Longford  Bridge  the  fight 
"When  Drumlish  in  its  might 
Was  by  Martin's  put  to  flight, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht. 

"  It  was  mighty  edifying, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
To  see  sticks  and  stones  a  flying, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ; 
And  religion  went  astray, 
With  Father  Felix  in  the  fray, 
Till  he  had  to  run  away, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht. 

' '  None.     Tis  disgusting  ! " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what.  There's  a  lovely  spot,  the  big  meadow  on  the 
Edgeworthstown  road,  half  a  mile  from  us.  Let  us  pretend  to  sepa- 
rate and  go  home,  but  agree  to  meet  there  in  half  an  hour  1 " 

"  Beautiful !     Just  the  thing  !" 

They  parted,  and  tried  the  maneuver  agreed  upon ;  but  it  was  no 
use ;  the  police  were  up  to  it,  and  the  belligerents  had  to  disperse 
homeward  in  good  earnest,  declaring  "these  peelers"  a  great  nuis- 
ance! 


440  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  Oh  I  the  bould  men  of  Rathcline, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
On  that  morning  they  did  shine, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht  ; 
And  the  boys  from  Curraghroe, 
With  Clondra  men  in  a  row, 
Oh  !  'tis  they  the  stones  can  throw, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht." 

The  funds  required  for  the  Martin  candidature  were  con- 
tributed by  public  subscriptions,  which  poured  in  from  all 
parts  of  Ireland.  It  was  notable  that  a  great  portion  came 
from  the  Catholic  clergy.  They  deplored  the  error  of  their 
reverend  brethren  in  Longford  ;  they  grieved  intensely  over 
the  conflict  we  had  raised,  but  quite  saw  that  of  two  evils 
acquiescence  in  that  error  would  be  much  the  greater.  As 
a  body  they  had  ever  exercised  the  popular  proxy  wisely  and 
unselfishly.  They  would  fearlessly  brave  popular  caprice  or 
unreason ;  but  they  ambitioned  no  dominance,  they  shrank 
from  the  idea  of  wielding  the  clerical  power  in  opposition 
to  the  legitimate  freedom  of  their  flocks.  And  even  as  re- 
gards the  priests  of  Longford,  it  must  be  remembered  for 
them  that  they  fought  very  much  on  a  point  of  honor  to- 
ward Lord  Greville.  They  were  no  bigots.  The  man  for 
whom  they  risked  and  lost  so  much  in  this  conflict  was 
"Protestant  of  the  Protestants." 

Thursday,  the  30th  of  December,  1869,  was  nomination- 
day,  and  on  the  previous  evening,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Eyan, 
a  Dublin  merchant  who  warmly  sympathized  in  the  Long- 
ford contest,  I  set  out  from  Dublin  in  order  to  represent  Mr. 
Martin  at  the  proceedings.  Telegrams  represented  Long- 
ford town  as  "  safe  for  Martin,"  and  the  secretary  of  the 
Amnesty  Association  in  Dublin  would  insist  on  sending 
down  along  with  us  a  brass  band,  with  gorgeous  baton  and 
big  drum  complete.  It  was  ten  o'clock  at  night  when  we 
reached  the  town,  and  above  the  noise  of  wheel  and  engine 
we  could  hear  loud  shouting  as  the  train  pulled  up.  On 
the  platform,  with  faces  full  of  anxiety  and  alarm,  were  my 


LONGFORD.  441 

brother,  Mr.  Hanly,  conducting  solicitor  for  Mr.  Martin,  and 
a  few  other  friends.  With  them,  evidently  looking  out  for 
me,  were  some  of  the  railway  officials. 

"  What's  up  ?"  I  cried. 

"Up!  The  station  is  surrounded  by  a  Grevillite  mob. 
The  town  is  in  their  possession.  Word  was  wired  to  the 
enemy  from  Dublin  that  you  and  Mr.  Kyan  were  coming. 
Keep  quiet :  we  must  see  what  course  to  adopt." 

Yells  outside  the  station,  and  a  thundering  of  sticks  on  the 
gate,  lent  force  to  the  story. 

A  moment's  reflection  showed  the  best  course  to  be  a  start 
at  once,  along  with  the  other  passenger  arrivals,  for  the  va- 
rious hotels.  To  remain  behind  was  to  increase  the  danger. 
Mr.  Eyan  and  I  jumped  into  a  cab  and  drove  off.  A  howl- 
ing mob,  sticks  in  hand,  surged  around,  peered  into  our  faces, 
but  happily,  not  recognizing  us,  let  us  pass  on.  We  reached 
our  hotel  in  safety.  Only  then  did  the  thought  strike  me, — 
what  of  my  brother  and  Mr.  Hanly  ?  "  They  will  be  mur- 
dered if  they  attempt  to  leave  the  station,"  I  cried.  "And 
then  there  are  the  unfortunate  bandsmen  whom  Nolan,  con- 
found him,  would  insist  on  sending  down."  "Oh,  be  sure 
they  will  be  kept  there  till  morning,"  rejoined  Mr.  Kyan. 
"Don't  be  alarmed." 

Soon  we  heard  shouts  approaching,  and  the  noise  of  a  drum. 
After  a  while  the  street  outside  the  window  presented  a 
strange  sight.  The  mob  had  discovered  the  band  trying  to 
escape  by  a  back  way  from  the  station,  had  set  upon  and 
beaten  the  musicians,  and  captured  and  smashed  the  instru- 
ments. The  disjecta  membra  were  now  being  triumphally 
borne  through  the  town  as  trophies. 

While  I  was  gazing  with  amazement  at  the  scene,  my 
brother  and  friends  entered  the  room,  streaming  with  blood 
from  wounds  on  the  head.  They  had,  they  said,  fortunately 
escaped  very  well  on  the  whole.  The  chase  after  the  poor 
bandsmen  had  diverted  attention  from  them,  and  they  had 
got  very  nearly  to  the  door  before  they  were  recognized. 
19* 


442  NEW  IRELAND, 

Next  morning  the  mobs  that  had  bivouacked  through  the 
night  around  large  fires  in  the  streets  prepared  for  the  great 
encounter, — the  fight  for  the  court-house,  so  as  to  secure  the 
"show  of  hands."  At  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  a  pitched 
battle  would  be  fought  outside  that  building.  Stones  flew 
through  the  air  ;  the  crash  of  windows  and  the  shouts  of 
combatants  were  heard  on  all  sides.  The  resident  magistrates 
and  county  inspector  of  police  behaved  with  great  coolness 
and  temper.  Mr.  Murtagh,  Mr.  Hanly,  my  brother,  and  my- 
self succeeded  in  reaching  where  they  stood.  I  proposed  to 
Mr.  Talbot,  R.M.  (now  Commissioner  of  Metropolitan  Po- 
lice), that  if  he  would  see  fair  play  exercised  as  to  the  ad- 
mission of  Mr.  Martin's  friends  into  the  court-house,  we 
would  call  on  the  Martin  party  to  cease  all  conflict  and  retire 
from  the  town.  He  cheerfully  assented,  and  we  flung  our- 
selves between  the  combatants.  I  doubt  if  I  ever  had  such 
close  escapes  of  fatal  injury  in  all  my  life  as  during  those  five 
minutes.  We  succeeded.  A  line  of  military,  with  fixed 
bayonets,  was  drawn  around  the  court-house,  and  detach- 
ments of  Grevillites  and  Martinites  admitted  in  turn.  The 
former,  however,  succeeded  in  having  the  best  of  it.  When 
I  came  forward  to  speak  for  Mr.  Martin,  drawing  short  sticks 
from  under  their  vests,  the  Grevillites  in  the  body  of  the 
court  dashed  at  the  hustings  with  savage  cries.  It  certainly 
was  oratory  under  difficulties.  Every  period  in  my  speech 
was  marked  by  a  crash  upon  the  wooden  paneling  in  front 
of  where  I  stood,  and  by  the  sweep  of  half  a  dozen  bludgeons 
reaching  much  nearer  to  my  head  than  was  at  all  calculated 
to  increase  my  composure. 

The  clergy  conquered  at  the  polls.  John  Martin's  candi- 
dature was  defeated  by  an  overwhelming  majority.  Mr. 
Greville-Nugent  was  returned  by  1478  votes  to  411.  The 
day  was  lost,  yet  won.  The  object  we  had  striven  for  was 
virtually  attained.  Every  one  realized  the  importance  of  the 
struggle.  The  event  was  unique  in  Irish  politics.  Many 
of  us  Catholic  Nationalists  who  fought  the  fight  sorrowed 


LONGFORD.  443 

to  think  that  the  adversaries  with  whom  this  conflict  had 
been  waged  were  our  own  priests,  whom  we  truly  loved. 
But  we  felt  that  one  of  the  first  conditions  of  our  national 
existence  was  at  stake.  Common  action  for  our  common 
country  would  be  impossible  between  us  and  our  Protestant 
fellow-citizens  if  we  had  surrendered  on  the  issue  raised  in 
this  struggle.  A  calumny  on  the  great  body  of  the  Catholic 
clergy  would  receive  a  certain  measure  of  corroboration — a 
distorted  view  of  their  action  in  politics  would  be  strength- 
ened— if  we  allowed  the  error  of  the  Longford  priests  to 
prevail  unquestioned  in  the  face  of  Ireland.  We  looked  into 
the  future,  and  we  felt  that  time  would  vindicate  our  motives 
and  prove  the  wisdom  of  our  policy.  Nor  had  we  long  to 
wait  for  striking  results.  Irish  Protestants,  hesitating  no 
further  in  distrust  or  doubt,  called  aloud  to  the  Catholic 
millions  that  the  time  had  come  for  reconciliation  and  union. 
With  a  quickness  that  was  marvelous  the  acerbities  of  sec- 
tarian antagonisms  seemed  to  vanish.  Already  from  Prot- 
estant lips  came  the  shout  of  "Home  Rule  I" 


CHAPTEE    XXVIII. 

"HOME  BULE." 

ON  the  evening  of  Thursday,  the  19th  of  May,  1870,  a 
strange  assemblage  was  gathered  in  the  great  room  of  the 
Bilton  Hotel,  Dublin.  It  was  a  private  meeting  of  some  of 
the  leading  merchants  and  professional  men  of  the  metrop- 
olis, of  various  political  and  religious  opinions,  to  exchange 
views  upon  the  condition  of  Ireland.  Glancing  around  the 
room,  one  might  ask  if  the  millennium  had  arrived.  Here 
were  men  of  the  most  opposite  parties,  men  who  never  before 
met  in  politics  save  as  irreconcilable  foes.  The  Orangeman 
and  the  Ultramontane,  the  stanch  Conservative  and  the 
sturdy  Liberal,  the  Nationalist  Eepealer  and  the  Imperial 
Unionist,  the  Fenian  sympathizer  and  the  devoted  loyalist, 
sat  in  free  and  friendly  counsel,  discussing  a  question  which 
any  time  for  fifty  years  previously  would  have  instantly 
sundered  such  men  into  a  dozen  factions  arrayed  in  stormy 
conflict.  It  was  one  of  those  meetings  axiomatically  held 
to  be  "impossible"  in  Ireland,  as  may  be  understood  by  a 
glance  over  the  subjoined  list  of  those  who  composed  it.  I 
indicate  in  most  instances  the  religious  and  political  opinions 
of  the  gentlemen  named,  and  include  a  few  who  were  added 
to  constitute  a  "  Committee  on  Resolutions." 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Edward  Purdon,  Lord  Mayor,  Mansion  House,  Prot- 
estant Conservative. 

Sir  John  Barrington,  ex-Lord  Mayor,  D.L.,  Great  Britain  Street, 
Protestant  Conservative. 

E.  H.  Kinahan,  J.P.,  ex-High  Sheriff,  Merrion  Square,  Tory. 

James  V.  Mackey,  J.P.,  Beresford  Place,  Orangeman. 

444 


"HOME  RULE."  445 

James  W.  Mackey,  ex-Lord  Mayor,  J.P.,  40  Westmoreland  Street, 
Catholic  Liberal. 

Sir  William  Wilde,  Merrion  Square,  F.R. C.S.I.,  Prot.  Cons. 

lames  Martin,  J.P.,  ex-High  Sheriff,  North  Wall,  Cath.  Lib. 
/Cornelius  Denehy,  T.C.,  J.P.,  Mountjoy  Square,  Cath.  Lib. 

W.  L.  Erson,  J.P.,  Great  Charles  Street,  Or. 

Rev.  Joseph  E.  Galbraith,  F.T.C.D.,  Trinity  College,  Prot.  Cons. 

Isaac  Butt,  Q.C.,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Nationalist. 

R.  B.  Butt,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Nat. 

R.  W.  Boyle,  Banker,  College  Green,  Tory. 
- ,  Jiam  Campbell,  26  Gardiner's  Place,  Cath.  Lib. 

William  Daniel,  Mary  Street,  Cath.  Lib. 

William  Deaker,  P.L.G.,  Eden  Quay,  Prot.  Cons. 

Alderman  Gregg,  Sackville  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Alderman  Hamilton,  Frederick  Street,  Cath.  Repealer. 

W.  W.  Harris,  LL.D.,  ex-High  Sheriff  of  the  county  Armagh,  Eccles 
Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Edward  M.  Hodson,  Capel  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

W.  H.  Kerr,  Capel  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Major  Knox,  D.L.,  Fitzwilliam  Square  (proprietor  of  fritih  Times), 
Prot.  Cons. 

Graham  Lemon,  Town  Commissioner  of  Clontarf,  Yew  Park,  Prot. 
Cons. 

J.  F.  Lombard,  J.P.,  South  Hill,  Cath.  Repealer. 

W.  P.  J.  McDermott,  Great  Britain  Street,  Cath.  Rep. 

Alexander  McNeale,  104  Gardiner  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

W.  Maher,  T.C.,  P.L.G.,  Clontarf,  Cath.  Rep. 

Alderman  Manning,  J.P.,  Grafton  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

John  Martin,  Kilbroney,  "  Forty-eight  "  Nationalist,  Presbyterian. 

Dr.  Maunsell,  Parliament  Street  (editor  of  Evening  Mail),  Tory. 

George  Moyers,  Richmond  Street,  Or. 

J.  Nolan,  Sackville  Street  (Secretary  Fenian  Amnesty  Association), 
Cath.  Nat. 

James  O'Connor,  Abbey  Street  (late  of  Irish  People),  Cath.  Fenian. 

Anthony  O'Neill,  T.C.,  North  Strand,  Cath.  Rep. 

Thomas  Ryan,  Great  Brunswick  Street,  Cath.  Nat. 

J.  H.  Sawyer,  M.D.,  Stephen's  Green,  Prot.  Nat. 

James  Reilly,  P.L.G.,  Pill  Lane,  Cath.  Nat. 

Alderman  Plunket,  James's  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  Rep. 

The  Venerable  Archdeacon  Goold,  D.D.,  M.B.,  Prot.  Tory. 

A.  M.  Sullivan,  Abbey  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  Rep. 

Peter  Talty,  Henry  Street,  Cath.  Rep. 


446  NEW  IRELAND. 

William  Shaw,  M.P.,  Beaumont,  Cork  (President  of  Munster  Bank), 
Prot.  Lib. 

Captain  Edward  R.  King-Harraan,  J.P.,  Creevaghmore,  county  of 
Longford,  Prot.  Cons. 

Hon.  Lawrence  Harman  King-Harman,  D.L.,  Newcastle,  county  of 
Longford,  Prot.  Cons. 

George  Austin,  Town  Commissioner  of  Clontarf,  Winstonville, 
Prot.  Cons. 

Dr.  Barry,  Rathmines,  Cath.  Lib. 

George  Beatty,  Henrietta  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Joseph  Begg,  Capel  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  (Treasurer  of  Fenian  Amnesty 
Association). 

Robert  Callow,  Alderman,  Westland  Row. 

Edward  Carrigan,  Bachelor's  Walk,  Cath.  Lib. 

Charles  Connolly,  Rogersou's  Quay,  Cath.  Lib. 

D.  B.  Cronin,  Nassau  Street,  Cath.  Fenian. 

John  Wallis,  T.C.,  Bachelor's  Walk,  Prot.  Cons. 

P.  Walsh,  Merrion  Row,  Cath.  Nat. 

John  Webster,  Monkstown,  Prot.  Cons. 

George  F.  Shaw,  F.T.C.D.,  Trinity  College,  Prot.  Cons. 

P.  J.  Smyth,  Dalkey,  Cath.  Nat.  Repealer. 

George  E.  Stephens,  Blackhall  Place,  Prot.  Cons. 

Henry  H.  Stewart,  M.D.,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

L.  J.  O'Shea,  J.P.,  Margaret  Place.  Cath.  Rep. 

Alfred  Webb,  Abbey  Street,  Nat.,  "Friend." 

"What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  ?"  they  asked.  The  Prot- 
estant Conservatives  spoke  up.  Some  of  them  were  men  of 
large  property  as  country  gentlemen  ;  others  were  among  the 
wealthiest  and  most  influential  merchants  of  the  metropolis. 
"It  is  impossible  for  us,"  they  said,  "to  view  the  events  of 
the  past  five  years  without  feeling  it  incumbent  on  us,  as  we 
value  the  welfare  of  our  country  and  regard  the  safety  and 
security  of  all  we  possess,  to  make  some  step  toward  a  recon- 
ciliation or  agreement  with  the  National  sentiment.  In  that 
sentiment,  as  we  understand  it,  there  is  much  we  can  never 
assent  to.  Some  of  the  designs  associated  with  it  shall  ever 
encounter  our  resistance.  But  we  have  never  concealed  from 
ourselves,  and  indeed  have  never  denied,  that  in  the  main 
the  aspiration  for  national  autonomy  is  one  which  has  sound 


"HOME  RULE."  447 

reason  and  justice,  as  well  as  historical  right,  behind  it.  We 
wish  to  be  frank  and  clear  :  we  will  have  no  part  in  disloyal 
plans  ;  we  will  have  no  separation  from  England.  But  we 
feel  that  the  scheme  of  one  parliament  for  all  purposes,  im- 
perial and  local,  has  been  a  failure  ;  that  the  attempt  to  force 
consolidation  on  the  Irish  people,  to  destroy  their  national 
individuality,  has  been  simply  disastrous.  However  attract- 
ive in  theory  for  imperial  statesmen,  that  project  has  utterly 
broken  down  in  fact  and  reality.  It  has  cost  us  perpetual 
insecurity,  recurrent  insurrection.  It  may  suit  English 
politicians  to  cling  to  the  experiment  still,  and  pursue  it 
through  another  fifty  years,  always  '  just  going  to  succeed 
this  time  ; '  but  for  us  Irish  Protestants,  whose  lot  is  cast  in 
this  country,  and  whose  all  in  the  world  is  within  these  seas, 
it  is  time  to  think  whether  we  cannot  take  into  our  own  hands 
the  solution  of  this  problem.  We  want  peace,  we  want 
security,  we  want  loyalty  to  the  throne,  we  want  connection 
with  England ;  but  we  will  no  longer  have  cur  domestic 
affairs  committed  to  a  London  parliament.  The  question 
is  whether  we  can  agree  upon  an  arrangement  that  would 
harmonize  those  national  aspirations  in  which  we  largely 
participate  with  that  imperial  connection  which  we  desire 
to  retain." 

Such  was  the  tenor  and  substance  of  a  discussion  or  con- 
versation which  extended  upward  of  an  hour.  The  prob- 
ability of  certain  taunts  being  leveled  at  them  was  dis- 
coursed upon.  "It  will  be  said  we  are  uttering  these  senti- 
ments now  out  of  spite  against  England  for  disestablishing 
our  Church  "  (which  was  quite  true  of  some  of  them).  "  As 
to  that,  we  freely  say  two  considerations  have  hitherto  ruled 
us.  First,  to  the  covenant  with  England  in  reference  to 
our  Church  we  certainly  were  faithful.  Some  of  us  regret- 
ted that  bargain,  and  boldly  avow,  now  that  England  has 
violated  it,  that  we  feel  more  free  as  Irishmen,  and  shall  be 
none  the  worse  as  Protestants.  Secondly,  we  did  entertain, 
no  doubt,  an  apprehension  as  to  how  Roman  Catholics,  who 


44:8  NEW  IRELAND. 

are  numerically  the  bulk  of  this  nation,  might  exercise  their 
political  power  under  the  pressure  of  ecclesiastical  authority. 
As  to  the  first  consideration,  the  Act  of  Union  is  now  dis- 
solved ;  the  covenant  has  been  torn  up.  As  to  the  second, 
reading  the  signs  of  the  times,  we  believe  we  may  fearlessly 
dismiss  the  suspicions  and  apprehensions  that  have  hitherto 
caused  us  to  mistrust  our  Eoman  Catholic  countrymen." 

Sitting  silently  observant  of  this  remarkable  scene  was  a 
man  who  perhaps  more  than  any  other  living  Irishman  held 
in  his  hands  the  political  destinies  of  the  country  at  that  mo- 
ment. Isaac  Butt  was  born  at  Glenfin,  county  Donegal,  in 
1815,  being  the  son  of  the  Protestant  rector  of  that  place. 
He  was  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  where  he  rap- 
idly rose  to  distinction.  He  had  barely  passed  his  majority 
when  he  was  elected  to  the  professorship  of  political  economy 
in  the  University  of  Dublin.  He  was  called  to  the  bar  in 
November,  1838,  and  made  a  Queen's  Counsel  in  1844,  one 
of  the  few  Irish  advocates  who  wore  "silk"  at  the  age  of 
twenty-nine.  From  his  earliest  college  days  he  was  a  politi- 
cian, and  thirty  years  ago  was  the  rising  hope  of  the  Irish 
Protestant  Conservative  party.  He  was  their  youthful  cham- 
pion, selected  in  1844  to  do  battle  against  O'Connell  himself 
in  a  great  four-day  debate  on  Repeal  in  the  Dublin  Corpora- 
tion. All  Tory  as  young  Butt  was,  he  had  a  thoroughly 
Irish  heart,  and  an  intense  love  of  the  principles  of  liberty. 
In  the  debate  with  O'Connell,  it  is  remarkable  to  note  that 
he  confined  himself  almost  entirely  to  an  argument  that  the 
Union  experiment  had  not  been  fully  tried.  At  the  close  of 
the  encounter  his  great  antagonist,  after  paying  a  high 
tribute  to  his  genius,  prophesied  that  Isaac  Butt  would  one 
day  be  found  "in  the  ranks  of  the  Irish  people."  Early  in 
1852  he  was  invited  by  the  English  Conservatives  to  stand 
for  Harwich,  which  borough  he  represented  up  to  the  dis- 
solution in  the  summer  of  that  year,  when  he  was,  as  we 
have  noted  elsewhere,  returned  for  Youghal.  At  the  bar  he 
attained  to  a  high  position.  He  took  a  leading  part  in  all 


"HOME  RULE."  449 

the  great  trials,  civil  and  political,  from  1844  to  the  State 
prosecutions  just  concluded.  He  for  a  time  gave  himself 
up  almost  exclusively  to  a  parliamentary  career.  In  1864, 
however,  he  was  called  from  London  to  Ireland  to  conduct 
one  of  the  most  important  mercantile  causes  of  the  period. 
At  its  close,  instead  of  returning  to  parliamentary  pursuits, 
he  ceased  to  attend  the  House  of  Commons,  and  devoted 
himself  more  closely  than  ever  to  professional  labors.  In 
1865  he  stood  facile  princeps  in  the  front  rank  of  Irish  ad- 
vocates. The  Fenian  prisoners,  beset  by  many  and  serious 
difficulties  as  to  their  defense,  turned  to  him  as  one  whose 
name  alone  was  a  tower  of  strength.  Not  in  vain  did  they 
appeal  to  his  chivalrous  generosity,  his  love  of  constitutional 
liberty,  his  sympathy  with  those  struggling  against  the 
severities  of  power.  He  flung  himself  with  ardor  to  their 
side  ;  and  once  his  feelings  were  aroused  and  his  sympathies 
enlisted  in  their  fate,  he  never  gave  them  up.  For  the 
greater  part  of  four  years,  sacrificing  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent a  splendid  practice  in  more  lucrative  engagements,  he 
buried  himself,  so  to  speak,  in  the  prolonged  and  desperate 
effort  of  their  defense.  No  wonder  that  in  1868  he  had 
earned  their  gratitude  and  won  their  confidence.  Four  years 
of  such  sad  work  meanwhile  wrought  powerfully  with  his 
sympathetic  nature.  In  1869  he  accepted  the  position  of 
President  of  the  Amnesty  Association,  and  soon  became  the 
one  great  figure  in  Irish  popular  politics. 

Immediately  on  the  fall  of  the  Irish  Church  he  saw  what 
was  coming  in  Ireland.  He  knew  the  feelings — the  fears, 
the  hopes,  the  questionings — that  surged  in  the  breasts  of 
his  fellow-Protestants.  He  determined  to  use  the  great 
power  which  now  rested  with  him  in  an  endeavor  to  close 
forever  the  era  of  revolt  and  bloodshed,  to  unite  in  a  common 
work  of  patriotism  Irishmen  long  divided  by  class  and  creed 
distinctions,  and  to  establish  between  Ireland  and  England  a 
union  of  friendship  and  justice  which  might  defy  the  shocks 
of  time. 


450  NEW  IRELAND. 

At  this  Bilton  Hotel  conference  he  listened  long  to  the  ut- 
terances of  his  fellow-Protestants,  many  of  them  the  famil- 
iar associates  of  his  college  days.  He  marked  their  fears 
about  disloyalty,  their  apprehensions  that  the  Fenians  and 
the  Eomanists  would  be  content  with  nothing  less  than  separ- 
ation. He  rose  to  his  feet  and  spoke  with  great  earnestness. 
"It  is  we — it  is  our  inaction,  our  desertion  of  the  people  and 
the  country,  the  abdication  of  our  position  and  duties — that 
haye  cast  these  men  into  the  eddies  and  whirlpools  of  rebel- 
lion," he  said.  "  If  you  are  but  ready  to  lead  them  by  con- 
stitutional courses  to  their  legitimate  national  rights,  they 
are  ready  to  follow  you.  Trust  me,  we  have  all  grievously 
wronged  the  Irish  Catholics,  priests  and  laymen.  As  for  the 
men  whom  misgovernment  has  driven  into  revolt,  I  say  for 
them  that  if  they  cannot  aid  you  they  will  not  thwart  your 
experiment.  Arise  !  Be  bold  !  Have  faith  ;  have  confi- 
dence, and  you  will  save  Ireland ;  not  Ireland  alone,  but 
England  also ! " 

He  concluded  by  proposing 

"  That  it  is  the  opinion  of  this  meeting  that  the  true  remedy  for  the 
evils  of  Ireland  is  the  establishment  of  an  Irish  parliament  with  full 
control  over  our  domestic  affairs." 

The  chairman  put  the  resolution  to  the  meeting.  "As 
many  as  are  of  opinion  that  this  resolution  do  pass  say, 
<  Ay.'"  A  shout  of  "  Ay "  rang  through  the  room.  "  The 
contrary  will  say,  '  No.'  "  Not  a  dissentient  voice  was  heard. 
Then  every  one,  greatly  astonished,  burst  into  a  cheer ;  the 
first  heard  that  evening,  so  grave  and  earnest  and  almost 
solemn  had  been  the  tone  of  the  deliberations. 

This  was  the  birth  of  the  Irish  Home  Eule  movement. 

A  "Committee  on  Resolutions,"  comprising  all  the  par- 
ticipators in  the  private  conference,  was  charged  with  the 
difficult  and  delicate  task  of  formulating  the  national  demand 
which  they  proposed  to  recommend  to  the  country.  They 
carefully  disclaimed  for  themselves  any  representative  char- 


"HOME  nULE"  451 

acter,  or  any  right  to  speak  or  act  in  the  name  of  Ireland. 
They  proposed  merely  to  ascertain  what  support  such  a 
scheme  as  they  meditated  might  command,  with  the  view  of 
eventually  submitting  it  to  some  formal  assembly  competent 
to  speak  with  the  national  authority.  In  due  time  the  com- 
mittee reported  the  following  as  the  fundamental  resolutions 
of  an  organization  to  be  called  "  The  Home  Government 
Association  of  Ireland." 

"  I. — This  association  is  formed  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  for  Ire- 
land the  right  of  self-government  by  means  of  a  national  parliament. 

"II. — It  is  hereby  declared,  as  the  essential  principle  of  this  asso- 
ciation, that  the  objects,  and  THE  ONLY  OBJECTS,  contemplated  by  its 
organization  are — 

"  To  obtain  for  our  country  the  right  and  privilege  of  managing  our 
own  affairs,  by  a  parliament  assembled  in  Ireland,  composed  of 
her  Majesty  the  sovereign,  and  her  successors,  and  the  Lords  and 
Commons  of  Ireland ; 

"  To  secure  for  that  parliament,  under  a  federal  arrangement,  the 
right  of  legislating  for  and  regulating  all  matters  relating  to  the 
internal  affairs  of  Ireland,  and  control  over  Irish  resources  and 
revenues,  subject  to  the  obligation  of  contributing  our  just  pro- 
portion of  the  imperial  expenditures  ; 

"  To  leave  to  an  imperial  parliament  the  power  of  dealing  with  all 
questions  affecting  the  imperial  crown  and  government,  legisla- 
tion regarding  the  colonies  and  other  dependencies  of  the  crown, 
the  relations  of  the  United  JSmpire  with  foreign  states,  and  all 
matters  appertaining  to  the  defense  and  the  stability  of  the  em- 
pire at  large. 

"  To  attain  such  an  adjustment  of  the  relations  between  the  two 

countries,  without  any  interference  with  the  prerogatives  of  the 

crown,  or  any  disturbance  of  the  principles  of  the  constitution. 

"  HI. — The  association  invites  the  co-operation  of  all  Irishmen  who 

are  willing  to  join  in  seeking  for  Ireland  a  federal  arrangement  based 

upon  these  general  principles. 

"  IV.— The  association  will  endeavor  to  forward  the  object  it  has  in 
view,  by  using  all  legitimate  means  of  influencing  public  sentiment, 
both  in  Ireland  and  Great  Britain,  by  taking  all  opportunities  of  in- 
structing and  informing  public  opinion,  and  by  seeking  to  unite  Irish- 
men of  all  creeds  and  classes  in  one  national  movement,  in  support  of 
the  great  national  object  hereby  contemplated. 


452  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  V. — It  is  declared  to  be  an  essential  principle  of  the  association  that, 
while  every  member  is  understood  by  joining  it  to  concur  in  its  general 
object  and  plan  of  action,  no  person  so  joining  is  committed  to  any  po- 
litical opinion,  except  the  advisability  of  seeking  for  Ireland  the 
amount  of  self-government  contemplated  in  the  objects  of  the  associ- 
ation." 

This  was  not  "Repeal,"  as  O'ConnelPs  scheme  was  loosely 
and  imperfectly  called.  O'Connell  entirely  avoided  defining 
his  plan  of  arrangement.  By  "  Repeal"  he  caused  the  peo- 
ple to  understand  the  one  simple  fact  that  the  illegal  over- 
throw of  the  Irish  constitution  in  1800  was  to  be  undone. 
But  in  1844  lie  knew  right  well  that  reverting  to  the  state  of 
things  previous  to  1800  would  in  many  respects  be  impossi- 
ble, and  in  others  mischievous.  He  knew  that  many  in- 
ternational arrangements,  compromises,  checks,  and  coun- 
terpoises would  have  to  be  agreed  upon  ;  but  he  never 
attempted  to  outline  or  define  any  plan.  This  vagueness, 
Avliile  on  the  one  hand  it  saved  him  from  attack  on  details  as 
well  as  principles,  on  the  other  gave  room  for  Protestant 
alarm  and  apprehension.  Repeal  plus  all  the  changes  of  the 
past  forty  years  was  very  nearly  separation  ;  and  O'Connell 
would  not  show  his  hand  as  to  future  details  or  guarantees. 

This  new  plan  of  the  Home  Government  association  took 
the  other  course.  It  attempted  to  suggest  or  indicate  the 
nature  of  the  arrangements  under  which  the  unity  of  the 
empire  might  be  secured  equally  with  Irish  management  of 
Irish  affairs.  In  this  sense  it  was  at  once  less  and  more  than 
"  Repeal."  The  pre-Union  system  had  two  serious  faults, 
— one  hazardous  to  the  English  connection,  the  other  peril- 
ous to  Irish  liberties.  The  voting  of  Irish  supplies,  not 
merely  for  domestic  but  general  and  imperial  purposes,  the 
voting  of  men,  money,  or  material  for  the  navy  and  the 
army,  lay  altogether  with  the  Irish  parliament.  This  was  a 
state  of  things  too  uncertain  and  dangerous  for  British  min- 
isters to  be  really  content  with.  It  was  a  perpetual  induce- 
ment, in  the  interests  of  imperial  unity  and  safety,  to  a 


"HOME  RULE."  453 

consolidation  of  the  parliaments.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Irish  parliament  had  no  responsible  ministry.  Its  vote  was 
as  powerless  to  remove  a  cabinet  as  to  stir  the  Hill  of  Howth. 
The  result  was  a  standing  menace  to  the  freedom  of  the  as- 
sembly. The  ministry  might  openly  engage  (as  it  often  did) 
in  the  most  violent  and  corrupt  attempts  to  purchase  a  ma- 
jority in  the  chamber,  and  yet  the  chamber  itself  could  by 
no  vote  of  "want  of  confidence  "  remove  that  ministry  from 
power. 

The  great  feature  in  the  Home  Government  Association 
scheme  was,  on  the  one  hand,  it  offered  to  surrender  the 
Irish  control  over  imperial  supplies,  and,  on  the  other, 
claimed  a  responsible  Irish  administration.  All  that  related 
to  imperial  concerns  was  left  to  the  imperial  legislature ;  all 
that  related  to  domestic  Irish  affairs  was  claimed  for  an 
Irish  parliament. 

But  what  are  "  local "  and  what  are  "imperial "  affairs  ? 
asked  hostile  critics,  anxious  to  draw  Mr.  Butt  into  a  battle 
on  details.  That  may  or  may  not  be  a  difficult  point  of  ar- 
rangement between  the  countries  when  they  come  to  adjust 
such  matters,  was  his  reply  :  such  points  have  been  easily 
settled  elsewhere,  and  they  will  not  defy  the  ability  of  Eng- 
lish and  Irish  statesmen  when  the  time  arrives  for  consider- 
ing them  here. 

Conscious  of  the  difficulties  surrounding  them,  the  leaders 
of  the  new  society  pushed  their  way  very  diffidently  and 
tentatively  at  first.  They  were  assailed  from  the  opposite 
poles  of  politics, — by  the  imperialist  Conservatives  and  the 
Catholic  Liberals.  The  Catholic  bishops  and  clergy,  full  of 
gratitude  to  Mr.  Gladstone  for  the  great  work  he  had  just 
accomplished,  could  hardly  be  expected  to  regard  with  pa- 
tience a  proceeding  which  looked  so  like  a  mere  Tory  trick. 
It  was  an  old  Orange  plot,  they  thought,  to  spite  the  Liberal 
Government  that  had  settled  the  Church  question  and  was 
about  to  settle  the  Education  question.  The  Tory  imperial- 
ists, on  the  other  hand,  were  filled  with  alarm.  This  new 


454  NEW  IRELAND. 

association  was,  they  declared,  a  device  of  the  Jesuits  to  lay 
hold  of  Protestants  at  such  a  moment  and  apprentice  them 
to  sedition  and  disloyalty.  "  You  are  in  the  toils  of  Orange- 
ism,"  cried  the  Whig  Evening  Post  to  the  Catholics.  "You 
are  the  dupes  of  Cardinal  Cullen,"  cried  the  Conservative 
Daily  Express  to  the  Protestants. 

The  new  movement  made  steady  progress.  The  mistrust 
and  hostility  of  the  Catholic  Liberals,  especially  of  the 
Catholic  clergy,  proved  to  be  its  most  serious  hindrance. 
The  popular  sentiment,  however,  went  at  once  and  strongly 
with  the  association;  and  four  "bye-elections,"  which  oc- 
curred in  1871,  gave  striking  proof  of  the  depth  and  force 
of  the  national  feeling.  These  were  the  return  of  Mr.  John 
Martin  for  Meath,  Mr.  Mitchell-Henry  for  Galway,  Mr.  P. 
J.  Smyth,  for  Westmeath,  and,  crowning  all,  Mr.  Butt  for 
Limerick.  Mr.  Martin's  opponent  was  the  Hon.  Mr.  Plun. 
kett,  brother  of  Lord  Fingall,  a  Catholic  nobleman  warmly 
esteemed  by  the  whole  Catholic  community.  The  Catholic 
clergy  had  espoused  Mr.  Plunkett's  candidature  before  Mr. 
Martin's  had  been  suggested.  On  the  appearance  of  the 
latter  they  at  once  announced  that  they  would  do  their  best 
fairly  for  the  man  to  whom  they  were  pledged,  but  would 
have  no  quarrel  with  their  people  if  the  latter  honestly  and 
freely  preferred  John  Martin.  Few  persons  believed  Mr. 
Martin  had  any  chance  of  success ;  least  of  all  did  Mr. 
Plunkett.  On  the  hustings  the  former  gentleman  declared 
he  had  no  ambition  to  enter  Parliament,  and  would  rather 
Mr.  Plunkett  went  in  unopposed,  "if  only  he  would  de- 
clare for  Home  Kule ; "  in  which  case  he,  Mr.  Martin, 
would  retire  on  the  instant.  Mr.  Plunkett  laughed  in  a 
good-natured  and  kindly  way  at  this  offer  of  a  seat  which  he 
regarded  as  already  his  own.  Great,  however,  was  his  dis- 
may to  find  at  the  close  of  the  booths  that  the  derided  Home 
Ruler  polled  two  votes  to  his  one,  and  that  John  Martin  was 
Knight  of  the  Shire  for  "Royal  Meath." 

Scarcely  less  encouraging  to  the  Home  Rulers  was  the 


"HOME  RULE."  455 

election  in  Galway,  considering  the  man  whose  adhesion  it 
signalized.  Mr.  Mitchell-Henry  was  son  of  Mr.  Alexander 
Henry,  one  of  the  merchant-princes  of  Manchester,  for  many 
years  member  of  Parliament  for  South  Lancashire.  Mr. 
Henry,  senior,  was  an  Irishmen  :  the  family  have  occupied 
an  honorable  position  in  Ulster  for  two  centuries.  Some  of 
them  settled  in  America :  Patrick  Henry  of  the  Revolution, 
and  Alexander  Henry,  the  well-known  philanthropist  of 
Philadelphia,  were  relatives  of  the  late  member  for  South 
Lancashire.  Mr.  Mitchell-Henry,  who  was  born  in  1826, 
early  devoted  himself  to  medical  science,  and  for  fifteen 
years  was  consulting  surgeon  to  the  Middlesex  Hospital.  On 
the  death  of  his  father  in  1862  he  inherited  a  considerable 
fortune,  and  retired  from  professional  practice.  He  was 
greatly  struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  at  Kylemore, 
in  Galway.  He  purchased  the  entire  district,  and  built  there 
Kylemore  Castle,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  West, — a  fairy- 
palace  in  the  Connemara  Highlands.  He  became  not  only 
attached  to  the  place  but  to  the  people.  Protestant  as  he 
was,  in  the  midst  of  a  strongly  Celtic  and  Catholic  peasantry, 
he  found  that  his  religious  opinions  raised  no  barrier  be- 
tween him  and  the  confidence  and  affections  of  this  simple 
and  kindly  race.  Ere  long  his  sympathy  with  the  people, 
his  uprightness,  his  liberality,  were  the  theme  of  praise  in 
even  the  humblest  homes  from  Clifden  to  Lough  Corrib.  He 
was  known  to  be  a  man  of  considerable  intellectual  ability, 
great  independence,  and  firmness  of  character.  When  he 
issued  his  address  for  Galway  County  in  February,  1871,  as 
an  advocate  for  domestic  legislation,  and  was  returned  with- 
out a  contest,  the  incident  created  quite  a  stir  in  the  world  of 
Irish  politics. 

In  the  following  June  a  vacancy  occurred  in  the  represen- 
tation of  Westmeath  County,  and  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth,  a  leading 
member  of  the  Home  Government  Association,  offered  him- 
self as  a  candidate.  Mr.  Smyth  was  one  of  the  Confederate 
fugitives  in  1848.  He  escaped  to  America,  as  mentioned  in 


456  NEWm  IRELAND. 

a  previous  chapter,  and  in  that  country  devoted  himself  for 
some  time  to  journalism.  In  1854  some  ardent  friends  of 
the  Irish  State  prisoners  (Smith  O'Brien,  Meagher,  Mitchel, 
etc.,  then  undergoing  their  sentences  in  Australia),  struck  by 
the  successful  escape  of  MacManus,  formed  a  plan  and  found 
the  requisite  funds  for  effecting  the  rescue  of  the  others,  one 
by  one.  Mr.  Smyth  was  selected  as  the  agent  to  carry  out 
this  daring  purpose ;  and  the  result  amply  justified  the  con- 
fidence thus  placed  in  his  courage  and  devotion.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  Australia,  where  he  arranged  and  personally  con- 
ducted the  escapes  of  Meagher  and  Mitchel.  He  was  on  his 
way  thither  a  third  time,  I  believe,  to  bring  off  O'Brien, 
when  a  pardon  reached  the  latter  gentleman.  In  1856  Mr. 
Smyth  returned  to  Ireland  and  soon  after  joined  the  Irish 
press,  later  on  entering  the  legal  profession  as  barrister. 
He  was  a  man  of  marked  ability,  a  polished  orator,  and 
an  able  writer ;  and  his  uncontested  return  on  this  occasion 
for  Westmeath,  following  as  it  did  upon  the  Meath  and 
Galway  elections,  gave  the  new  association  a  notable  tri- 
umph. 

In  September  came  the  crowning  victory  of  the  year,  in 
the  unopposed  return  for  Limerick  of  Mr.  Butt,  already  the 
recognized  leader  of  the  movement. 

As  if  irritated  by  these  events,  Irish  Liberalism  toward 
the  end  of  1871  seemed  to  pull  itself  together  for  a  serious 
resistance  to  the  Home  Eule  "craze,"  as  it  was  called.  In 
the  opening  part  of  1872  we  found  ourselves  hard  pressed  in 
many  places.  We  could  note  by  many  signs  that  the  expec- 
tation of  a  Catholic  University  scheme  at  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Gladstone  was  having  a  powerful  effect  with  some  of  the 
Catholic  bishops  and  clergy.  Important  organs  of  public 
opinion  known  to  be  influenced  by  leading  members  of  the 
episcopacy  began  to  draw  off  from  the  movement,  and  to  say 
that  the  demand  for  Home  Kule  was  no  doubt  very  right 
and  just,  but  it  was  "inopportune."  One  thing  at  a  time. 
Until  the  Catholic  Education  question  had  been  settled, 


"HOME  RULE."  457 

nothing  else  should  be  taken  in  hand.  Home  Rule  ought 
to  be  "postponed." 

At  this  the  Protestants  in  the  new  association  started  like 
men  on  whom  suddenly  flashes  the  recollection  of  gloomy 
warnings.  Was  not  this  what  had  been  prophesied  to  them  ? 
Were  the  Catholics  going  to  betray  the  cause  ? 

The  answer  came  from  Kerry  and  Galway  Counties. 

In  December,  1871,  on  the  death  of  the  Earl  of  Kenmare, 
his  son,  Viscount  Castlerosse,  then  member  of  Parliament  for 
Kerry,  succeeded  to  the  peerage  and  estates.  The  Kenmare 
family  are  Catholics.  They  are  resident  landlords, — a  class 
happily  numerous  in  Kerry, — and  have  long  been  esteemed 
as  among  the  best  of  the  good  by  the  people  around  them. 
For  nearly  thirty  years  there  had  been  no  contest  for  the  rep- 
resentation of  that  county.  The  territorial  magnates  of  the 
two  great  political  parties,  Liberal  and  Conservative,  by  a 
tacit  or  express  compact  peaceably  divided  the  representa- 
tion between  them.  One  of  the  two  county  seats  went  to  the 
Liberal-Conservative,  Mr.  Herbert  of  Muckross,  and  was 
transmitted  from  sire  to  son.  The  other  was  the  family  seat 
of  the  Catholic  Liberal  Earl  of  Kenmare,  long  held  by  the 
next  heir  to  the  coronet.  It  seemed  to  be  quite  clearly  un- 
derstood that  a  sort  of  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  existed 
between  both  parties,  to  the  end  that  the  combined  forces  of 
Liberal  and  Conservative  landlordism  would  resist  any  at- 
tempt of  third  parties  to  disturb  this  arrangement. 

When  toward  the  close  of  1871  Lord  Castlerosse  became 
Earl  of  Kenmare,  his  eldest  son  was  quite  too  young  to  take 
the  seat  he  vacated  as  county  member ;  and  accordingly  he 
selected,  as  the  family  representative,  his  cousin,  Mr.  James 
Arthur  Dease,  a  highly  respected  and  influential  Catholic 
gentleman  resident  in  Westmeath.  Usually  this  transfer 
would  be  a  matter  of  course ;  but  now  it  was  the  turn  of 
Kerry  to  show  that  a  New  Ireland  had  come  into  exist- 
ence. From  various  parts  of  the  county  arose  reclamations 
against  this  mode  of  disposing  of  the  representation.  It  was 
20 


458  NEW  IRELAND. 

submitted  that  the  people  were  not  to  be  ignored  in  this 
fashion.  The  Ireland  of  to-day  was  not  the  Ireland  of  thirty 
years  ago.  Lord  Kemnare  they  greatly  respected ;  but  a 
political  trust  was  not  to  be  treated  as  a  family  appanage. 
They  would  select  a  candidate  for  themselves  ;  and  he  should 
be  one  who  in  the  name  of  Kerry,  the  county  of  O'Connell, 
would  proclaim  the  unalterable  determination  of  the  Irish 
people  to  recover  their  constitutional  liberties. 

Sooth  to  say,  these  manifestations  in  Kerry  occasioned  at 
first  uneasiness  rather  than  satisfaction  among  the  Home 
Rule  leaders  in  Dublin, — so  adverse  did  they  think  the 
chances  of  any  successful  movement  under  existing  circum- 
stances in  that  county,  and  so  damaging  would  a  heavy  blow 
at  that  critical  juncture  in  all  likelihood  have  been.  The 
men  of  Kerry,  however,  are  a  sensitive  and  high-spirited 
people.  Their  pride  was  touched;  their  patriotism  was 
roused.  They  selected  as  their  standard-bearer  a  young 
Protestant  gentleman  barely  returned  from  Oxford,  and  not 
more  than  a  month  or  two  past  his  majority, — Eoland  Pon- 
sonby  Blennerhassett,  of  Kells,  near  Cahirciveen. 

A  shout  of  contemptuous  derision  burst  from  the  Whig- 
Liberal  Catholics  all  over  Ireland.  "What !  Dream  of  op- 
posing the  nominee  of  Lord  Kenmare  in  Kerry !  True  to 
the  spirit  of  the  alliance  compact,  the  Tory  and  Whig  land- 
lords of  the  county  assembled,  and  in  a  combined  body  con- 
stituted themselves  an  election  committee  for  Mr.  Dease. 
At  their  head  stood  the  Catholic  Bishop,  the  most  Rev.  Dr. 
Moriarty. 

Undeterred,  nay,  incited,  by  all  this,  the  great  body  of  the 
Catholic  clergy,  and  the  people  almost  to  a  man,  espoused 
the  cause  of  "Blennerhassett  and  Home  Rule."  The  Lib- 
eral press  and  politicians  all  over  the  kingdom,  confident 
that  victory  was  in  their  hands,  loudly  proclaimed  that  this 
was  to  be  the  great  test  election  between  Liberalism  and 
Home  Rule,  centralization  and  nationality ;  and  they  in- 
vited the  empire  to  watch  the  result.  By  the  middle  of 


"HOME  RULE."  459 

January,  1872,  the  struggle  had  assumed  national  signifi- 
cance and  importance.  The  London  Daily  Telegraph  de- 
clared we  were  "on  the  eve  of  a  very  critical  test."  The 
Daily  News  said,  "  The  contest  is  already  exciting  an  amount 
of  interest  in  Ireland  hardly  equaled  there  since  O'Connell 
contested  the  county  of  Clare.  ...  On  the  whole,  there 
are  in  Kerry  all  the  materials  of  a  struggle  the  result  of 
which  every  English  statesman  must  regard  as  important,  if 
not  indeed  momentous." 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1872,  the  Home  Eule  Council 
in  Dublin  was  specially  convened  to  consider  urgent  appeals 
from  Kerry  for  the  personal  presence  and  assistance  of  some 
of  its  members.  The  council  decided  that  the  fate  of  the 
whole  movement  seemed  so  largely  involved  in  the  issue  that 
the  entire  energies  and  resources  of  the  organization  must 
be  put  forth.  A  deputation  consisting  of  the  Kev.  Joseph 
A.  Galbraith,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  A.  M.  Sullivan, 
and  John  Overington  Blunden  was  named  to  proceed  forth- 
with to  Kerry.  It  was  "death  or  glory."  They  were 
charged  to  return  "bearing  their  shields,  or  borne  upon 
them." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE  KEBBY  ELECTION. 

"WELL,  Sullivan,  this  is  a  serious  pull  that  is  before  us," 
said  the  Fellow  of  Trinity,  gravely,  as  we  seated  ourselves 
in  the  Killarney  train,  on  Friday  evening,  the  26th  of 
January,  1872. 

Trinity  College  has  played  a  great  part  in  the  history  of 
Ireland.  It  was  founded  as  an  exclusively  and,  if  I  may  so 
express  it,  aggressively  Protestant  institution,  some  three  hun- 
dred years  ago.  It  was  the  intellectual  citadel  of  Protestant 
ascendency ;  and  many  a  time  and  oft  have  the  Irish  Cath- 
olics heard  the  hard  dicta  of  intolerance  shouted  from  its 
portal.  Yet  to  this  day  there  is  scarcely  a  man  of  generous 
mind  or  breadth  of  view  among  them  who  is  not  proud  of 
"  Old  Trinity ; "  proud  to  mark  the  high  place  it  holds  amidst 
the  schools  of  Europe ;  but,  above  all,  to  note  the  illustrious 
men  it  has  sent  forth,  in  Arts,  Letters,  Science,  Politics,  to 
lift  the  name  and  fame  of  Ireland.  For  at  least  forty  or  fifty 
years  it  has  been  not  only  strongly  conservative  but  im- 
perialist ;  yet  the  spirits  of  Grattan  and  Flood  and  Plunket 
haunt  the  old  scenes.  Ever  and  anon  Trinity  contributes 
to  the  struggles  of  Irish  nationality  some  of  its  ablest  and 
most  gifted  champions, — men  who  are  the  links  that  bind 
creeds  and  classes  in  community  of  public  feeling  and  action 
and  prevent  Irish  politics  from  becoming  a  mere  war  of  race 
and  religion.  Two  such  men  were  my  companions  on  this 
journey.  One  of  them  was  especially  notable. 

The  Rev.  Joseph  A.  Galbraith,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  filled  from  the  first  hour  a  foremost  place  in  the  new 

460 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  461 

movement  of  constitutional  nationality.  His  scientific  at- 
tainments made  his  name  familiar  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
realm  ;  and  among  the  Protestant  Conservatives  whom  the 
events  of  recent  years  had  brought  into  association  with  pop- 
ular politics,  there  was  scarcely  one  whose  adhesion  had  a 
greater  effect  on  social  and  public  opinion  in  Ireland.  How 
'much  he  was  esteemed  and  trusted  by  his  co-religionists 
was  shown  by  the  fact  of  his  being  elected  year  by  year  to 
one  of  the  highest  honorary  positions  in  connection  with  the 
Church  Synod  and  the  "  Governing  body  "  of  the  Protestant 
Church  in  Ireland.  He  was  one  of  the  gentlemen  present 
at  the  Bilton  Hotel  Conference  on  the  19th  of  May,  1870, 
and,  although  by  nature  intensely  averse  to  the  bustle  and 
turmoil  of  public  life,  he  faced  boldly  the  labors  incidental 
to  a  prominent  position  in  the  new  political  organization. 
Being  requested  to  proceed  along  with  Mr.  Blunden  and 
myself,  as  representatives  of  the  association  in  the  Kerry 
campaign,  he  cheerfully  complied,  and  we  now  were  en 
route  for  the  scene  of  action. 

"We  slept  at  Killarney  that  night,  and  proceeded  next 
morning  to  Tralee,  where  a  great  open-air  demonstration  was 
to  be  held  in  favor  of  the  National  candidate.  We  found  the 
county  town  in  a  state  of  passion,  denouncing  the  conduct 
of  the  borough  member,  who  had  "gone  over  to  the  enemy." 
Alas !  it  was  The  O'Donoghue,  the  popular  idol  of  yesterday, 
the  eloquent  advocate  of  Irish  independence  !  It  was  as  if 
Hofer  had  suddenly  appeared  in  Botzen,  dressed  in  Bavarian 
livery,  leading  the  Munich  riflemen.  This  was  a  heavy  blow, 
a  sore  trial ;  but,  save  in  the  pain  of  feeling,  the  anguish  al- 
most, which  it  occasioned  the  people,  who  had  so  devotedly 
loved  the  now  converted  leader,  it  was  without  effect.  Twenty- 
five  years  ago  such  a  man  would  have  carried  his  county  or 
borough  with  him,  as  a  Highland  chief  would  carry  his 
clan  from  one  camp  to  the  other.  Now  the  secession  of 
The  O'Donoghue  was  worth  scarcely  a  dozen  votes  to  the 
Earl  of  Kenmare. 


462  NEW  IRELAND. 

Mr.  Blennerhassett,  accompanied  by  an  immense  concourse, 
with  bands  and  banners,  awaited  our  arrival  at  the  station. 
It  was  with  much  difficulty  we  could  save  Mr.  Galbraith 
from  being  carried  off  bodily  and  "chaired  "  on  their  shoul- 
ders by  the  enthusiastic  Popish  Kerry  men.  It  surely  was  a 
strange  sight,  this  Kerry  election  fight  of  1872.  Here  was 
one  of  the  most  Catholic  counties  in  Ireland  rallying,  priests 
and  people,  on  the  side  of  this  young  Protestant,  Roland 
Blennerhassett ;  opposing  a  Catholic  candidate,  the  relative 
of  a  Catholic  nobleman  whom  they  one  and  all  personally 
esteemed  !  With  nearly  everything  to  deter  them,  they 
pressed  on.  Leagued  against  them  was  the  entire  landlord 
power  of  the  county,  Whig  and  Tory,  Catholic  and  Prot- 
estant, with  barely  a  few  exceptions.  Their  bishop,  Dr. 
Moriarty,  and  several  of  their  parish  priests  were  violently 
opposing  them.  The  O'Connell  family  went  also  with  Lord 
Kenmare.  On  the  other  side  there  was,  however,  the  great 
fact  that  the  majority  of  the  Kerry  priests  were  enthusias- 
tically with  the  people.  The  national  sentiment  all  over  the 
kingdom  was  at  their  back.  Most  important  of  all,  the  lead- 
ing organs  of  popular  opinion  in  the  South  of  Ireland,  the 
Cork  Examiner  of  Mr.  John  Francis  Maguire,  M.P.,  and  the 
Cork  Daily  Herald,  scarcely  less  influential  in  its  circulation, 
were  thoroughly  on  the  popular  side.  Had  it  been  otherwise 
as  to  the  local  press,  had  Mr.  Maguire  helped  us  less  heartily, 
the  Kerry  election  might  not  have  been  won.  He  was  at  this 
time  the  leading  journalist  and  politician  of  Munster,  and  had 
for  years  been  a  prominent  figure  among  the  Irish  members 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  John  Francis  Maguire  was  born 
in  Cork  city  in  1815.  He  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1843. 
Long  previously,  however,  his  natural  inclinations  and  tastes 
led  him  to  literature  and  journalism.  In  1841  he  founded 
the  Cork  Examiner,  which  in  a  few  years  became  one  of  the 
most  important  and  influential  journals  in  Ireland.  He  was 
an  especial  favorite  and  intimate  friend  of  Father  Mathew, 
and  in  the  Temperance  and  Eepeal  movements  from  1841  to 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  463 

1846  he  was  an  active  participator.  In  1852  he  was  returned 
to  Parliament  for  the  borough  of  Dungarvan,  which  he 
had  twice  previously  unsuccessfully  contested, — once  in  1847 
against  Eichard  Lalor  Sheil,  and  once  in  1851  against  the 
Hon.  Ashley  Ponsonby.  He  remained  member  for  Dungar- 
van  from  1852  to  1866,  when  he  was  returned  for  his  native 
city,  the  representation  of  which  he  held  thenceforth  until 
his  death  in  November,  1872.  His  eloquence,  his  energy,  his 
marked  ability  brought  him  early  into  the  front  rank  of  the 
Irish  representation.  He  took  an  active  part  in  the  Tenant 
League  movement ;  and  on  the  disruption  caused  by  the 
Keogh-Sadleir  episode,  he  was  found  with  Lucas  and  Moore 
and  Duffy  vainly  endeavoring  to  repair  the  ruin  that  had 
fallen  on  the  tenants'  cause.  In  1852  he  was  elected  Mayor 
of  Cork,  and  was  the  author  and  chief  promoter  of  the  Indus- 
trial Exhibition  held  that  year  in  the  city.  In  the  midst  of 
a  busy  and  toilsome  career,  Mr.  Maguire  found  time  for  some 
contributions  to  literature.  His  best-known  work,  which 
earned  him  the  marked  personal  friendship  of  Pio  Nono,  was 
"Home  and  its  Rulers,"  first  published  in  1857  ;  "The  Irish 
in  America"  and  a  "Life  of  Father  Mathew"  came  next, — 
the  latter  one  of  the  most  interesting  pieces  of  biography 
written  in  our  day.  Although  an  ardent  Liberal,  and  slow 
to  lend  himself  to  new  political  ventures, — he  had  seen  the 
rise  and  fall  of  not  a  few, — Mr.  Maguire  at  an  early  stage  of 
the  Home  Eule  movement  gave  it  a  firm  and  argumentative 
support.  No  sooner  had  the  Kerry  contest  assumed  the  pro- 
portions of  a  national  struggle  than  he  threw  himself  with 
all  the  energy  of  his  nature  into  a  fight  which  he  pre- 
sciently  foretold  would  be,  as  the  Daily  News  said,  "  impor- 
tant, if  not  indeed  momentous." 

Mr.  Galbraith  had  to  return  to  Dublin  in  a  few  days ;  but 
even  before  he  left  we  could  form  an  opinion  of  the  pros- 
pects of  the  fray.  "  Tell  them  all  in  Dublin,"  I  said,  "  that 
here  I  mean  to  stay  to  the  end.  These  are  a  noble  people. 
There  is  victory  ahead." 


464  NEW  IRELAND. 

I  did  not  praise  them  too  highly,  nor  estimate  too  hopefully 
the  result  before  us.  I  had  often  seen  popular  feeling  dis- 
played, in  election  contests,  but  nothing  to  equal  this.  What 
struck  me  as  the  strangest  part  of  it  all  was  the  popularity 
of  Mr.  Blennerhassett,  or  "Mr.  Hassett,"  as  he  Avas  called. 
He  must  have  been  personally  almost  unknown  to  the  bulk 
of  his  fellow-countrymen.  His  father — a  landed  proprietor 
in  the  west  of  Kerry,  where  the  family  settled  in  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth — had  died  while  he  was  a  child,  and  he  was  but 
a  youth  when  sent  away  to  Oxford  University.  Yet  the 
peasantry  spoke  of  him  and  to  him  in  the  language  of 
homely  affection.  The  "  canvass  "  was  a  triumphal  progress. 
As  we  drove  along  the  road  the  people  would  quit  fields  and 
houses,  stand  by  the  wayside  waving  green  boughs  and  shout- 
ing salutations,  or  else  run  by  the  carriage  just  to  press  his 
hand.  "  Ten  votes  in  this  town-land  for  you,  Mr.  Hassett. 
Home  Kule  forever ! "  "  You  needn't  trouble  about  our 
parish,  sir.  Father  Michael — God  bless  him  ! — and  all  of  us 
are  with  you."  As  we  passed  through  a  little  village  beyond 
Killorglin,  the  few  people  of  the  hamlet  who  had  votes 
rushed  around  to  "  give  their  names," — a  proceeding  they 
seemed  to  think  necessary.  One  peasant-woman  came  for- 
ward with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  I  have  no  vote  that  I  can 
give  you,  Mr.  Hassett ;  but  I  give  you  my  prayers  every  day 
that  God  and  the  blessed  Virgin  may  be  on  your  side  !  "  The 
most  primitive  attempts  at  festal  display  met  our  view  in  the 
wild  parts  of  the  county.  Whenever  the  news  reached  that 
at  no  matter  what  hour  of  the  night  or  day  we  were  to  pass 
the  way,  signal-men  were  posted  on  hill  and  crag  ;  and  often 
in  the  dead  of  night  we  could  hear  the  shout  passing  from 
house  to  house  along  mountain  and  valley, — "  Home  Rule  ! 
Home  Rule  ! "  At  a  place  between  Dingle  and  Tralee,  miles 
from  a  second  human  habitation,  a  peasant-boy  of  fourteen, 
lame  and  using  a  cratch,  stood  by  the  roadside  close  by  his 
father's  cabin.  From  early  morning — having  heard  we  were 
to  pass  either  going  or  returning — he  had  watched  and  waited. 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  465 

He  had  erected  what  he  meant  as  a  "banner."  Two  tall 
osier  rods  were  fastened  in  the  ground,  and  from  one  on  the 
top,  placed  laterally,  hung  a  piece  of  some  white  linen  gar- 
ment. On  this  during  the  previous  week  he  had  laboriously 
drawn  with  ink  or  blacking  sundry  national  emblems,  and  in 
large  letters  "Hurra  for  Blennerhassett  and  Home  Rule." 
That  "Mr.  Hassett"  would  see  this,  was  his  sole  ambition  ; 
but  when  we  pulled  up  and,  gazing  at  the  "  banner,"  praised 
his  artistic  skill,  he  looked  as  if  unable  to  contain  himself 
with  happiness  and  pride. 

For  a  full  fortnight  it  rained  as  only  in  Kerry  it  can  rain. 
But  the  people  seemed  amphibious,  and  we  of  the  "  deputa- 
tion "  *  soon  acquired  the  local  habit  of  disregarding  tempest 
and  flood.  Every  night,  at  Oakville — the  residence  of  Mr. 
Sandes,  a  young  cousin  of  "Mr.  Hassett" — a  huge  turf  fire 
was  lighted,  before  which  our  ulsters,  dreadnoughts,  rugs, 
and  wrappers  were  hung  to  dry.  Next  morning  they  were 
in  requisition  once  more,  and  saturated  anew  in  a  few  hours. 

All  seemed  going  fairly  through  the  county,  when  one 
evening  on  reaching  Oakville  a  piece  of  news  to  me  most 
disquieting  awaited  us.  Our  young  host  was  a  lover  of  the 
chase,  and  proud  of  his  hunters.  At  the  County  Club  the 
disputes  as  to  horseflesh  were  mingled  with  the  question  of 
Home  Rule  or  Liberalism,  Blennerhassett  or  Dease.  That 
day  a  contention  had  arisen  between  Mr.  Sandes  and  a  lead- 
ing "  Deasite  "  as  to  the  rival  merits  of  a  bay  mare  belonging 
to  one  and  a  chestnut  horse  owned  by  the  other.  "I'll  tell 
you  what  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Sandes  ;  "I'll  run  you  a  two-mile 
steeple-chase  for  a  hundred  guineas,  if  you  like,  and  I'll  call 
my  horse  Home  Rule  ;  do  you  call  yours  Deasite  ;  each  to 
ride  his  own  horse."  No  true  Kerry  man  could  refuse  such 
a  challenge.  I  don't  know  at  what  figure  the  stakes  were 
eventually  fixed,  but  I  do  know  that  all  over  Kerry  men 


*  Mr.  Florence  MacCarthy,  J.P.,  of  Glencurra,  Cork  County,  joined 
us  soon  after  Mr.  Galbraith's  return  to  Dublin. 
20* 


466  NEW  IRELAND. 

took  sides  and  betted  as  earnestly  on  this  race  as  if  the  fate 
of  the  election  hung  on  it, — which  indeed  we  greatly  feared 
was  in  some  degree  the  case. 

"  What  have  you  done  ! "  we  exclaimed,  in  vexation. 
"  Staked  on  the  hazard  of  a  horse-race  the  result  of  all  our 
toil !  You  know  what  a  people  the  Irish  peasantry  are  ; 
you  know  how  victory  or  defeat  in  a  matter  of  this  sort  will 
impress  them  ;  you  know " 

"  I  know :  all  so  much  the  better ;  for  I'm  going  to  win 
this  race  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Tom  Sandes." 

And  he  did  win  it  in  right  gallant  style, — took  fence  and 
dike  without  fall  or  fault,  and  rode  in  triumphantly,  leaving 
"  Deasite  "  nowhere  ! 

This  seemed  conclusive  with  the  people.  Now  it  was 
clear  we  were  to  head  the  poll.  Had  not  the  "Home  Rule" 
horse  won  the  day  ? 

Still,  some  of  us,  accustomed  of  old  to  elections,  knew 
that  popular  feeling  did  not  always  mean  votes  in  the  booth 
when  landlord  pressure  was  severely  exercised ;  and  as  the 
nomination-day  drew  near  we  found  that  the  most  relentless 
coercion  was  being  used  on  some  of  the  largest  properties  in 
the  county.  Nightly  councils  were  held  in  our  central  com- 
mittee-room ;  reports  from  the  various  districts  were  weighed 
and  discussed,  baronial  lists  eagerly  scanned  and  compared. 
That  at  the  last  moment  the  people  would  have  to  succumb 
to  the  bailiff's  message  was  a  gloomy  thought  which  hourly 
pressed  more  heavily  on  many  a  mind.  To  make  matters 
worse,  Mr.  Blennerhassett's  health  broke  down  under  the 
fatigues  of  the  past  four  weeks,  and  we  more  than  feared 
he  would  be  unable  to  appear  at  the  hustings.  He  did  so 
appear  only  by  an  effort.  The  nomination  was  a  great 
scene.  The  territorial  lords  of  the  county  assembled  in  proud 
array.  Much  were  they  angered  and  astounded  to  think 
they  beheld  a  day  when  they  should  be  thus  opposed  and 
defied  on  their  own  ground.  Our  man  made  an  admirable 
speech,  temperate,  firm,  eloquent,  full  of  lofty  patriotism. 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  467 

One  of  his  supporters,  however,  struck  out  severely  at  some 
of  the  landlord  party  present,  and  we  could  see  that  the 
attack  infuriated  the  whole  body.  They  left  the  court- 
house and  quitted  the  town,  each  for  his  own  locality, 
swearing  that  now  indeed  should  we  feel  their  power.  I 
knew  what  was  at  hand, — that  during  the  next  forty- 
eight  hours  it  would  be  "the  rush  within  the  ropes"  with 
both  parties.  The  nomination  was  on  Tuesday  the  6th  of 
February.  Next  day,  for  many  reasons,  and  more  particu- 
larly on  account  of  Mr.  Blennerhassett's  absence  through 
illness,  I  decided  to  remain  at  headquarters  in  Tralee  and 
take  supreme  control  into  my  own  hands.  Soon  came  pour- 
ing in  telegrams  addressed  to  Mr.  Blennerhassett  in  the  lan- 
guage of  excitement  and  alarm  :  "  All  our  forces  are  over- 
thrown here.  The  landlord  and  the  bailiffs  are  out  like 
raging  lions."  "  Desperate  work  here.  Landlords  neutral 
up  to  this,  now  personally  canvassing  against  us."  I  not 
only  opened  the  first  of  these  messages,  but  opened  every 
one  of  them  throughout  the  day.  I  stuffed  them  deliber- 
ately into  my  pocket,  and  breathed  not  a  word  about  them 
to  Mr.  Blennerhassett  or  anybody  else,  beyond  replying  to 
each  of  them,  "Quite  prepared  for  and  expected  it.  We 
are  doing  the  same  on  our  side.  Take  to  the  field  every 
man  of  you,  and  work  for  your  lives  day  and  night  till 
Friday."  I  well  knew  how  fatal  the  effect  of  panic  or  dis- 
heartenment  might  be  at  such  a  moment,  and  I  did  not 
spare  the  telegraph-wires  that  day  in  arousing  the  feelings 
and  exciting  the  confidence  and  courage  of  our  friends. 

From  Galway  most  opportunely  came  news  that  could 
hardly  fail  to  have  a  critical  effect  on  our  side.  In  that 
county  a  contest  little  less  important,  and  much  more  severe 
in  many  respects,  was  being  fought  by  Captain  John  Philip 
Nolan,  Home  Ruler,  against  Major  Le  Poer  Trench,  son  of 
Lord  Clancarty,  Liberal-Conservative.  Very  much  out  of 
personal  regard  for  Lord  Clancarty — and  for  Major  Trench 
himself,  for  whom  a  kindly  feeling  was  very  general  in  the 


468  NEW  IRELAND. 

county, — (but  still  more  "  to  put  down  Home  Rule  "),  the 
principal  Whig  and  Tory  landlords  united  in  that  gallant 
gentleman's  behalf,  and  a  struggle  painful  and  violent  be- 
yond precedent  resulted.  The  day  following  our  Kerry 
nomination  the  startling  and  truly  welcome  news  arrived 
that  Captain  Nolan  had  won  by  the  enormous  majority  of 
2578  to  658,  or  nearly  four  to  one  !  The  effect  in  Kerry  was, 
as  might  be  supposed,  all-important.  "Gal way  is  ours! 
Now,  Kerry,  show  what  you  can  do ! "  resounded  on  all 
sides. 

Meantime,  troops,  horse  and  foot,  were  being  poured  into 
the  county.  The  landlords  hired  vacant  buildings,  courts, 
or  yards  in  which  to  secure  their  tenants  the  night  before 
the  poll.  In  virtue  of  their  power  as  magistrates  they  requi- 
sitioned detachments  of  foot  and  lancers  for  the  purpose  of 
"escorting"  those  voters  to  the  booths.  The  streets  of 
Tralee  rang  with  the  bugles  or  echoed  to  the  drums  of  mili- 
tary arriving  by  train  or  departing  for  Dingle,  Listowel, 
Cahirciveen,  Castleisland,  etc.  All  this  intensified  the  pre- 
vailing excitement,  and  on  Wednesday  night  a  horseman 
arrived  from  one  of  the  remoter  districts  bringing  news  that 
filled  me  with  concern.  The  mountaineers  had  seen  "the 
army  "  pass,  and  knew  their  errand.  All  over  a  great  part 
of  Iverah  and  Magonihy  preparations  were  going  on  that 
night  to  destroy  the  bridges,  cut  up  the  roads,  and  render 
the  return  of  the  escorts  to  the  polling-booths  impossible. 
"Oh,  for  the  love  of  God,"  I  said,  "tell  him  to  ride  back 
with  all  his  speed  1  Tell  every  friend  we  are  sure  of  the 
poll,  and  that  our  only  danger  now  would  be  a  petition.  I 
implore  of  you  all  not  to  let  a  finger  be  raised  that  could 
thus  put  the  victory  into  our  enemies'  hands  !  "  Only  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  could  I  impress  this  view  upon  the  vol- 
unteer couriers ;  and  it  was  with  a  mind  full  of  uneasiness 
and  apprehension  that  the  night  before  the  poll  I  set  out 
for  Killarney  (our  opponents'  stronghold),  of  which  district 
I  determined  to  take  charge. 


TEE  KERRY  ELECTION.  469 

It  was  tough  work  all  that  morning  of  Friday  the  9th  of 
February  in  the  Killarney  booths  ;  and  as  the  tallies  swelled 
against  us  here  (but  here  only,  as  we  fully  calculated),  the 
crowds  which  about  noon  filled  the  streets  became  excited, 
uneasy,  and  anxious.  I  was  rushed  at  whenever  seen,  and 
eagerly  questioned. 

"We're  bate  here,  sir  ;  but  how  is  it  beyond  ?" 

"All  right,  boys.  We  are  doing  here  what  I  came  to  see 
done.  We'll  hear  from  Listowel  at  one  o'clock." 

Then,  drawing  on  hope,  the  crowd  would  raise  a  cheer, 
which  made  the  circuit  of  the  town. 

Some  of  the  scenes  in  the  booths  were  truly  "racy  of  the 
soil."  In  many  cases  the  voter,  assuming  an  air  of  dense 
stupidity,  pretended  to  forget  the  name  of  Mr.  Dease,  or  else 
gave  the  name  of  the  landlord  or  agent.  In  this  event,  of 
course,  the  vote  was  lost,  which  was  exactly  what  the  sharp- 
witted  rustic  wanted. 

"What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  My  name,  is  it,  sur  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  your  name." 

"Och,  then,  begor,  av'  it's  me  name,  I'll  never  deny  it." 

A  pause. 

"  Come,  sir,  go  down  if  you  will  not  proceed." 

Here  the  agent's  eye  is  caught  menacingly  fixed  on  him. 

"Arrah,  shure,  every  one  knows  me  name.  What  need 
you  ax  me  ?  " 

"  What  is  it,  sir  ?  last  time." 

"  What  is  it  ?    Dan  Mahony,  thanks  be  to  God." 

"  Daniel  Mahoney,  for  whom  do  you  vote  ?  " 

"  For  who  do  I  wote,  is  it  ?  " 

A  long — a  very  long — pause. 

"  Come,  sir,  I'll  take  the  next  man." 

Dan  looks  at  the  agent,  as  if  to  say,  "  Blame  me  not.  I'm 
doing  my  best."  Then,  with  an  effort, — 

"I  wote  for  what's-his-name,  you  know,  that  me  landlord 
wants  me  to  wote  for." 


470  NEW  IRELAND. 

"That  won't  do,  sir,  and  I  can't  waste  anymore  time  with 
you.  Clerk,  take  the  next  man." 

Here  Mr.  Dease's  attorney  makes  an  effort  to  whisper 
"Dease,"  but  is  collared  by  young  Mr.  Wright,  who  is  in 
charge  on  our  side.  "No  prompting,  sir.  I  protest."  Dan 
Mahony  scratches'  his  head  in  well-feigned  perplexity,  and, 
as  if  for  life  or  death,  shouts, — 

"  I  wote  for  Daly  !  " 

A  shriek  from  the  attorneys.  A  groan  from  the  agent. 
Dan  is  hustled  out  of  the  booth,  exclaiming,  as  he  goes,  "  I 
woted  for  me  landlord's  man  ! "  He  turns  round  the  street- 
corner  and  meets  some  neighbors  on  the  lookout  for  him. 
"  All  right,  boys.  Hassett  and  Home  Eule  forever  !  Hur- 
roo  ! " 

I  heard  several  such  electors  vote  for  "Lord  Kenmare," 
one  or  two  for  "Mr.  Gallwey,  and  there  he  is  there  this 
blessed  minnit,  thanks  be  to  God  ! "  Mr.  Gallwey  being 
agent  to  the  Kenmare  estates,  and  a  good  and  kindly  one 
too.  Indeed,  throughout  the  whole  election  I  never  met  a 
tenant  on  the  Kenmare  or  Herbert  properties  who  did  not 
speak  in  highest  terms  of  landlord  and  agent  in  each  case. 

I  was  standing  at  a  polling-place  under  a  shed  in  the  but- 
ter-market when  old  Sir  James  O'Connell  of  Lake  View 
(brother  of  the  Liberator),  a  most  extraordinary  and  eccen- 
tric octogenarian,  entered,  leading  or  bringing  on  each  side 
of  him  a  countryman,  whom  he  held  by  the  coat-flap.  March- 
ing up  to  a  police-officer,  he  said, — 

"  I  want  a  few  of  your  men  to  go  over  there  for  some  of 
my  tenants." 

"  Do  you  mean,  Sir  James,  that  they  are  in  danger  of 
assault  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  the  crowd  would  assist  them  to  run  away." 

"  Oh,  Sir  James,  we  can't  do  anything  like  that ;  but  if 
there  is  danger  of  assault  or  interference " 

"Well,  then,  will  you  mind  these  for  me  while  I  go  my- 
self?" 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  471 

The  officer  shook  his  head.  "  We'll  not  let  any  one  harm 
them,  Sir  James  :  that's  all  we  can  do." 

The  old  gentleman  paused,  looked  at  the  two  "  free  and 
independent "  voters,  whom  he  still  affectionately  held  fast, 
and  eventually  said,  "I'll  poll  them  first,  to  make  sure." 
He  put  up  one. 

"  For  whom  do  you  vote  ?  " 

"  For  Sir  James  O'Connell ! " 

"  Oh,  you  bla'guard  !  Oh,  you  stupid  ass  !  Oh,  you  in- 
fernal  but,  halloo — policeman  !  Hey  ! — I  say  —  where 

is  that  other  man  I  had  by  my  side  this  minute  ?  Police  ! 
Police  ! " 

The  assembled  throng  shrieked  with  laughter.  The  other 
voter  had  flitted,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  told  me  he 
came  up  half  an  hour  later  and  polled  for  Blennerhassett ! 

About  half-past  one  o'clock  I  left  the  booths  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  telegraph-office.  The  people  in  the  streets 
easily  guessed  my  errand,  and  made  way,  crushing  closely 
after  me,  however,  and  surrounding  the  post-office  in  a  great 
mass.  Three  telegrams  soon  reached  me  :  one  from  Cahir- 
civeen, — "A  hundred  majority  here  ;"  one  from  Tralee, — 
"Two  hundred  majority  here,  and  Kenmare  all  right ;  "  one 
from  Listowel, — "Seven  hundred  majority  here."  I  felt  as 
if  I  could  spring  over  Mangerton.  I  rushed  to  the  door  with 
the  open  telegrams  in  my  hands,  but,  before  I  could  speak  a 
word,  quick  as  lightning-flash  the  people  read  it  all  in  my 
face.  They  burst  forth  into  the  most  frantic  demonstrations 
of  joy.  They  shouted,  they  cheered,  they  flung  their  hats 
in  the  air  ;  they  rushed  in  a  body  to  the  court-house,  where 
polling  by  this  time  was  virtually  over.  As  the  noise  was 
heard  swelling  up  the  street,  every  one  within  knew  what  it 
meant,  and  gave  up  for  the  day  all  further  exertion.  Soon 
the  word  went  round, — the  Home  Ruler  was  in  by  over  seven 
hundred. 

I  left  Killarney  in  the  full  tide  of  rejoicing,  and  took  the 
train  to  Tralee.  The  scene  at  the  latter  town  was  still  more 


472  NEW  IRELAND. 

exciting.  The  majorities  everywhere  were  even  greater  at 
the  close  than  had  been  telegraphed  to  me.  On  the  hills 
around  we  could  see  the  signal-fires  that  spread  the  news 
from  the  Shannon  to  Dunkerron.  Next  day  and  night  as 
our  friends  in  charge  at  the  outlying  stations  came  in,  they 
brought  the  most  astonishing  stories  of  adventure  and  epi- 
sode. The  scale  was  turned  in  our  favor  at  Tralee  by  two 
incidents:  first,  the  defection  to  us  of  "the  Spa  voters;" 
secondty,  the  dispersion  of  "the  Dingle  contingent,"  chiefly 
a  body  of  Lord  Ventry's  men.  The  Spa  was  a  parish  or  dis- 
trict some  miles  outside  Tralee,  the  tenantry  of  which  had 
all  been  "  secured "  by  the  land  agent  and  were  quite  de- 
spaired of  by  us.  The  night  before  the  poll  the  bailiffs  had 
warned  every  man  of  them  to  be  at  the  cross-roads  in  the 
morning  at  ten  o'clock  sharp  to  meet  "the  master"  and 
march  to  Tralee  for  the  poll.  At  ten  o'clock  "the  master" 
rode  down  to  the  appointed  spot,  like  Marshal  Ney  going  to 
head  his  battalions.  He  found  no  tenantry  awaiting  him. 
"I  am  a  little  too  soon,"  he  reflected,  and  he  rode  his  horse 
up  and  down  the  road  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  Half  an 
hour  passed,  and  he  became  uneasy.  A  few  peasants  had 
been  lounging  about  in  the  neighborhood,  watching  "his 
honor  "  with  comical  expression  on  their  faces.  One  of  them 
now  came  up. 

"  May-be  it's  for  the  tinants  your  honor  is  waiting  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  good  man  ;  yes,  the  lazy  rascals  !  Do  you  see 
any  of  them  coming  yet  ?  " 

"  Coming,  your  honor  ?  Faith,  'tis  at  eight  o'clock  this 
morning  they  all  left  this  with  Father  Eugene  O'Sullivan  at 
their  head,  and  they're  in  Tralee  an  hour  ago." 

Dashing  spurs  into  his  horse,  he  went  at  full  gallop  into 
town,  and  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  the  last  of  the  Spa  men, 
over  a  hundred  in  number,  polling  for  Blennerhassett. 

From  Dingle,  distant  some  twenty  miles,  a  great  avalanche 
was  to  have  overwhelmed  us.  The  story  of  "the  Dingle 
contingent "  was  told  me  in  great  delight.  Mr.  De  Moleyns, 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  473 

it  seems,  had  gathered  as  many  conveyances  as  would  trans- 
port a  small  army  corps,  and  quite  a  formidable  body  of 
cavalry  had  proceeded  to  Dingle  to  escort  the  cavalcade. 
When  it  started  for  Tralee  it  was  fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  length,  Mr.  De  Moleyns  riding  proudly  at  its  head. 
After  it  had  gone  some  miles  he  turned  back  to  make  some 
inquiry  at  the  rear  of  the  procession.  Great  was  his  dis- 
may to  behold  the  last  five  or  six  cars  empty.  "  Where  are 
the  voters  who  were  on  these  cars  ?  "  he  stormily  shouted  at 
the  drivers. 

"The  wothers,  captain?  Some  of  them  slipped  down 
there  to  walk  a  bit  of  the  road,  and  faix  we're  thinking  that 
they're  not  coming  at  all." 

"  Halt !  halt ! "  he  cried,  and,  full  of  rage,  galloped  to 
the  head  of  the  cavalcade.  He  called  on  the  officer  in  com- 
mand of  the  cavalry  to  halt  for  a  while,  and  detail  a  portion 
of  his  men  for  duty  in  the  rear ;  when,  lo  !  he  now  noticed 
that  half  a  dozen  cars  at  the  front  had,  in  his  brief  absence, 
totally  lost  their  occupants.  According  to  my  informants, 
Mr.  De  Moleyns,  losing  all  temper,  more  forcibly  than  po- 
litely accused  the  officer  of  want  of  vigilance  and  neglect  of 
duty  ;  whereupon  the  latter  sharply  replied, — 

"What,  sir  !  do  you  think  I  and  my  men  have  come  here 
to  be  your  bailiffs  ?  I  am  here  to  protect  these  men,  if  they 
want  protection  ;  not  to  treat  them  as  prisoners.  And  now, 
sir,  I  give  you  notice  I  will  halt  my  men  no  more.  Ready, 
men !  Forward  !  March  ! " 

By  this  time  fully  a  third  of  the  voters  had  escaped. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  push  on.  At  the  village  of 
Castle-gregory,  however,  the  severest  ordeal  awaited  them. 
Here  they  found  the  entire  population  of  the  place,  men, 
women,  and  children,  occupying  the  road,  the  old  parish 
priest  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  highway,  his  gray  hair 
floating  in  the  wind.  The  villagers,  chiefly  the  women,  well 
knowing  how  the  voters  felt,  poured  out  to  them  adjurations 
and  appeals.  The  priest,  in  a  few  brief  sentences,  reached 


474  NEW  IRELAND. 

every  heart.  "Ah,  sons  of  Kerry,"  said  he,  "where  is  your 
pride  and  manhood,  to  be  dragged  like  prisoners  or  carted 
like  cattle  in  this  way  ?  And  for  what  ?  That  you  may 
give  the  lie  to  your  own  conscience,  and  give  a  stab  to  your 
country,  poor  Ireland ! "  With  one  wild  shout  the  voters 
sprang  from  the  cars  and  disappeared  in  the  body  of  the 
crowd.  The  grand  "  Dingle  cavalcade  "  was  a  wreck,  and 
Mr.  De  Moleyns,  sad  at  heart,  rode  into  Tralee  at  the  head 
of  an  immense  array  of  empty  cars. 

For  genuine  fun  and  ingenuity  perhaps  the  palm  must  be 
awarded  to  Cahirciveen.  From  Valencia  Island,  close  by,  a 
considerable  body  of  electors  were  to  be  brought  across  the 
sound  by  their  landlord,  the  Knight  of  Kerry,  to  poll  at  that 
town.  A  small  ferry  steamer  supplied  communication  from 
shore  to  shore.  Oddly  enough,  by  some  strange  "accident," 
on  her  last  trip  to  the  island  the  evening  previous  to  the  poll 
she  managed  to  run  upon  a  rock,  and  was  utterly  disabled. 
The  knight  and  his  trusty  men  (the  latter,  however,  knowing 
something  that  he  did  not)  came  down  to  the  shore  in  the 
morning,  and  wasted  some  precious  time  shouting,  "  Steamer 
ahoy  ! "  It  was  all  as  fruitless  as  the  wailing  of  Lord  Ullin 
to  the  boat  in  the  ballad,  that  would  not  come  back  "  across 
the  stormy  water." 

This  was  the  last  "  open  vote  "  electoral  contest  in  Ireland. 
Such  scenes  as  I  have  described  will  be  witnessed  no  more. 
Five  months  subsequently — 13th  of  July,  1872 — the  Ballot 
Act  received  the  royal  assent.  That  act  gave  a  death-blow 
to  electoral  intimidation,  from  whatever  quarter  directed,  and 
delivered  the  reality  of  political  power  at  the  polls,  for  the 
first  time,  into  the  hands  of  the  people  themselves. 

The  Kerry  election  decided  the  fortunes  of  the  new  move- 
ment. It  was  the  end  of  controversy.  To  this  day  it  is 
called  in  Ireland  "The  Clare  Election  of  Home  Kule." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

BALLYCOHEY. 

"  ME.  WILLIAM  SCULLY,  accompanied  by  a  force  of  police 
and  other  armed  attendants,  again  attempted  to  serve  the 
ejectment  notices  on  his  Ballycohey  tenantry  to-day.  A  lam- 
entable tragedy  ensued.  The  tenants  barricaded  and  loop- 
holed  one  of  the  houses,  from  which  they  poured  a  deadly 
fire  on  the  attacking  party.  The  police  returned  the  fire, 
and  fought  their  way  into  the  house,  which  they  found  evac- 
uated. Three  of  the  police  party  are  killed ;  Mr.  Scully  is 
wounded  in  seven  places, — it  is  thought  mortally.  Four 
policemen  are  more  or  less  seriously  wounded.  None  of  the 
tenantry  were  seen.  None  of  them  seemed  to  have  suffered. 
No  arrests.  Indescribable  excitement  throughout  the  whole 
district." 

Such  was  the  alarming  message  telegraphed  all  over  the 
kingdom  from  Tipperary  on  the  evening  of  Friday,  the  14th 
of  August,  1868.  When  the  full  particulars  of  the  astonish- 
ing story  came  to  hand  the  excitement  of  the  district  spread 
through  Ireland.  Even  in  England  it  was  the  sensation  of 
the  day. 

Ballycohey  is  a  town-land  in  Tipperary  County,  about  two 
miles  west  of  the  Limerick  Junction  station,  on  the  Great 
Southern  and  Western  Railway,  and  distant  less  than  three 
miles  from  the  town  of  Tipperary.  In  the  summer  of  1868 
it  was  held  by  a  considerable  number  of  tenants,  whose  fore- 
fathers had  occupied  the  place  for  a  hundred  years.  They 
were  an  industrious,  peaceable,  and  kindly  people,  punctually 
paid  their  rent,  which  was  not  a  low  one,  and  seem  to  have 

475 


476  NEW  IRELAND. 

got  on  quite  smoothly  with  their  successive  landlords  until 
Mr.  William  Scully,  a  few  years  before  this  event,  became 
the  purchaser  of  Ballycohey.  It  had,  nearly  a  century  ago, 
been  a  leasehold  possession  of  the  Scullys, — one  of  the  oldest 
Catholic  families  of  social  position  in  Tipperary, — but  had 
passed  from  them  in  1847.  Its  history  during  this  period 
is  supplied  in  the  following  letter  from  Mr.  Carbery  Scully, 
of  Derry  Park  (a  relative  of  Mr.  William  Scully),  whose 
testimony,  incidentally  given,  as  to  the  character  of  the  peo- 
ple, was  fully  corroborated  by  the  other  landlords  of  the 
neighborhood : 

"  About  the  year  1782,  when  first  Catholic  gentlemen  could  get  leases 
of  property,  my  grandfather,  James  Scully  of  Kilf eacle,  took  the  lands 
of  Shronehill  and  Ballycohey  from  Lady  Caroline  Darner  at  a  lease  of 
three  lives,  viz.,  his  eldest  son  then  living,  Roger,  his  third  son,  James, 
and  my  father,  whose  name  was  Edmund,  being  the  names  in  the  lease. 
Those  lands  were  settled  on  my  father  on  his  marriage  in  1806.  He 
kept  them  in  his  own  possession  until  about  the  year  1821,  when  he 
commenced  letting  them  to  tenants,  and  I  see  by  the  leases  now  in  my 
possession  that  among  the  number  a  lease  was  made  3d  February, 
1823,  to  William  Dwyer  and  his  brother-in-law,  John  Tooley,  at  a  rent 
of  three  pounds  five  shillings  an  acre  for  their  lives,  or  twenty-one 
years.  The  other  tenants'  names  at  Ballycohey  were  Ryans,  Greens, 
Quinns,  Heffernans,  Foleys,  Hanlys,  Tooleys,  and  some  few  others. 
They  were  the  most  honest,  quiet,  and  industrious  people  I  ever  met ; 
all  paid  'high  rents,  and  most  punctually,  and  if  I  was  to  select  the  two 
most  honest,  not  only  among  them,  but  the  two  worthiest  men  I  ever 
met,  they  were  Dwyer  and  Tooley  (John),  his  brother-in-law.  In  the 
year  1839,  at  my  father's  decease,  the  property  (Ballycohey)  came  to 
me,  and  I  continued  the  same  tenants  and  renewed  some  leases  of  those 
which  expired.  When  James  Scully  of  Tipperary  (the  last  life  in  the 
lease)  died,  in  January,  1847,  the  property  went  out  of  my  possession 
into  that  of  the  landlord's,  Lord  Portarlington,  whose  agent  was  the 
late  John  Sadleir,  and  he  continued  the  same  tenants  at  the  reduced 
rent  I  grave  it  at,  when  the  potatoes  failed  in  the  winter  of  1845.  Some 
time  after,  when  Lord  Portarlington  sold  the  property,  Mr.  Errington 
purchased  Shronehill,  and  Mr.  Grey,  agent  to  that  best  of  landlords 
(Lord  Derby),  purchased  Ballycohey,  and  I  believe  continued  the  same 
tenants  at  the  reduced  rent.  Thus  stood  the  matter  until  the  property 
was  purchased  a  few  years  ago  by  Mr.  William  Scully.  As  it  was  my 


BALLYCOHEY.  477 

father  first  brought  those  tenants  or  their  fathers  on  those  lands,  and 
I  continued  them  there,  I  feel  bound  to  bear  testimony  to  their  hon- 
esty and  industry  when  I  knew  them." 

It  was  with  something  like  dismay  the  Ballycohey  tenantry 
heard  Mr.  Grey  had  sold  the  land  to  William  Scully.  This 
latter  gentleman  was  already  unpleasantly  known  to  fame  as 
a  landlord.  He  was  a  man  of  large  wealth,  and  had  exten- 
sive estates,  not  only  in  Ireland  but  in  America.*  Yet  his 
career  and  character  up  to  this  more  than  justified  the  appre- 
hensions of  the  Ballycohey  farmers.  In  1849  he  was  tried 
at  Clonmel  assizes  for  the  shooting  of  two  fine  young  men, 
named  Bergin,  sons  of  a  tenant  whom  he  was  evicting  at 
Ballinclough  ;  but  he  was  acquitted  on  this  charge.  A  like 
good  fortune  did  not  await  him  at  the  Kilkenny  summer 

*  Mr.  W.  Scully  (brother  of  Mr.  Vincent  Scully,  formerly  M.P.  for 
Cork  County,  and  cousin  of  Mr.  Frank  Scully,  formerly  M.P.  for  Tip- 
perary)  owns  twenty -five  thousand  acres  of  the  choicest  land  in  Illinois, 
the  "Garden  State"  of  America.  This  estate  is  situated  in  Tazewell 
County,  and  comprises  the  greater  portion  of  the  celebrated  Delavan 
Prairie,  the  richest  loam  in  the  United  States.  A  friend  who  visited 
the  place  recently,  and  from  whom  I  derive  these  facts,  says,  "About 
the  termination  of  the  Mexican  war  Mr.  Scully  was  prospecting  for 
land  in  America.  Illinois  had  but  just  been  formed  into  a  State  and 
taken  into  the  Union.  Each  soldier  was  entitled  to  a  land  claim  of 
one  hundred  and  sixty  acres.  Soldiers,  as  a  rule,  care  little  for  land. 
Mr.  Scully  went  among  them  as  the  army  was  about  being  disbanded, 
and  purchased  for  a  mere  trifle  one  hundred  and  sixty  claims  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  acres  each.  Singular  to  say,  many  Tipperary  peo- 
ple are  resident  upon  this  tract  as  tenants,  the  rent  averaging  about 
five  dollars,  or  one  pound,  per  acre.  A  Tipperary  man  named  Cooney, 
one  of  the  tenants,  offered  a  few  years  ago  one  hundred  dollars  per 
acre  to  Mr.  Scully  for  the  fee-simple  of  the  farm  which  he  held  under 
him.  It  was  refused.  The  average  price  of  good  cleared  land  in  the 
same  State  is  from  twenty  to  thirty  dollars  per  acre.  In  the  session 
of  the  State  Legislature  of  1876  a  bill  was  introduced  by  the  Hon.  P. 
W.  Dunne,  one  of  the  members  for  Peoria  County,  to  impose  an  ex- 
traordinary tax  upon  the  estate  of  Mr.  Scully,  on  the  ground  of  his 
being  an  alien  and  an  absentee.  The  measure  was  not  carried  through, 
but  is  not  abandoned." 


478  NEW  IRELAND. 

assizes  of  1865,  when  he  was  sentenced  to  twelve  months' 
imprisonment  for  beating  and  wounding  the  wife  of  one  of 
his  tenants,  named  Tehan,  while  attempting  to  break  into 
Tehan's  house  in  the  dead  of  night  to  serve  some  notice  or 
make  a  seizure.  His  ideas  of  a  landlord's  rights  were  strict, 
and  his  mode  of  enforcing  them  strong,  —  too  strong  the 
judge  thought,  and  so  sent  him  to  Kilkenny  County  jail  for 
a  year's  hard  labor.  In  truth  he  became  the  terror  of  the 
unfortunate  tenantry  who  owned  his  sway.  He  was  a  Cath- 
olic, and  the  parish  priest  remonstrated  forcibly,  from  time 
to  time,  against  his  course  of  conduct.  Mr.  Scully  retaliated 
by  putting  his  children  into  the  wagonette  one  Sunday 
morning  and  driving  with  them  to  the  Protestant  church. 
When  this  news  reached  the  congregation  at  the  Catholic 
chapel  after  mass,  they  took  off  their  hats  and  gave  "three 
cheers,"  delighted  that  "  Billy,"  as  he  was  called,  was  no 
longer  one  of  themselves.  The  Ballycohey  men  noted  early 
that  he  was  trying  to  "get  a  holt  on  them,"  as  they  ex- 
pressed it ;  but,  as  they  fairly  paid  their  rent,  and  as  it  was 
a  pretty  high  one,  it  was  not  clear  what  he  would  do.  They 
soon  found  out.  He  valued  money  much, — he  was  avari- 
cious,— but  he  valued  despotic  power  even  more.  He  framed 
a  form  of  lease  for  the  Ballycohey  tenantry,  refusal  of  which 
was  to  be  the  signal  for  their  eviction.  This  was  a  most  as- 
tonishing document.  The  tenants  were  always  to  have  a 
half-year's  rent  paid  in  advance  ;  to  pay  the  rent  quarterly  ; 
to  surrender  on  twenty-one  days'  notice  at  the  end  of  any 
quarter  ;  to  forego  all  claims  to  their  own  crops  that  might 
be  in  the  soil ;  and  they  were  to  pay  all  rates  and  taxes  what- 
soever. Whoever  refused  to  accept  these  terms  must  quit. 

Any  one  who  knew  the  people  of  Tipperary  could  tell 
what  this  was  sure  to  bring  about.  The  magistrates  and  the 
police  officers  warned  Mr.  Scully.  He  cared  not.  He  ap- 
plied for  and  received  a  guard  of  police  on  his  house  and 
person,  and  went  about  heavily  armed  himself,  besides  being 
so  attended. 


BALLYCOHEY.  479 

Early  in  June,  1868,  he  noticed  the  tenants  to  bring  him 
the  May  rent  to  Dobbyn's  Hotel  in  Tipperary  on  a  particular 
day.  He  sat  at  the  table  with  a  loaded  revolver  on  each 
hand,  and  a  policeman  with  rifle  and  saber  close  by.  Only 
four  tenants  came  in  person.  The  rest  sent  the  rent  by  mes- 
sengers, which  greatly  angered  him,  for  he  wanted  the  oppor- 
tunity of  obtaining  their  signatures  to  the  famous  "lease" 
or  else  handing  them  there  and  then  a  "  notice  to  quit. "  This 
was  exactly  what  the  absentees  suspected,  and  so  they  sent 
the  money  by  their  wives  or  sons.  The  four  who  came  were 
asked  to  sign.  They  refused,  and  ran  away.  He  swore  at 
them  ;  and  they  defiantly  replied,  consigning  him  in  loudly- 
expressed  wishes  to  another  and  not  a  better  world.  It  was 
now  open  war.  Mr.  Scully  took  out  ejectment  processes. 
These  require  to  be  either  personally  served  or  else  left  at  the 
tenant's  house,  some  member  of  the  family  or  servant  being 
at  the  moment  within.  The  constabulary  inspector  had  in- 
formation that  any  attempt  of  Mr.  Scully  to  appear  on  the 
lands  delivering  these  missives  of  vengeance  would  be  resisted 
to  bloodshed.  But  nothing  could  move  him  from  his  pur- 
pose. On  Tuesday,  the  llth  of  August,  he  set  forth  at  the 
head  of  a  police  escort  and  his  own  bailiffs  to  serve  the  eject- 
ments. The  party  was  seen  approaching,  and  a  signal  halloo 
was  passed  along  the  fields.  Immediately  the  houses  were 
abandoned,  and  at  the  same  time  the  police  could  see  men 
running  from  far  and  near  to  swell  the  angry  crowd  that  was 
gathering.  Owing  to  the  abandonment  of  the  houses,  only  a 
few  notices  could  be  served  ;  and  by  this  time  the  surround- 
ing crowd,  groaning,  yelling,  cursing,  and  threatening,  had 
become  so  excited  that  the  officer  in  command  of  the  police 
called  on  Mr.  Scully  to  desist  forthwith,  and  let  them  safely 
retreat  to  the  town  ere  it  was  too  late.  Keluctantly  he  con- 
sented. The  crowd  followed,  and  by  the  time  they  reached 
Tipperary  they  had  to  fight  their  way  to  the  hotel.  Under 
all  these  circumstances  most  other  men  would  have  paused. 
Mr.  Scully  determined  to  push  on.  Early  on  the  following 


480  NEW  IEELAND. 

Friday  he  was  once  more  at  the  head  of  his  force,  and  mak- 
ing a  dash  to  surprise  Ballycohey.  His  approach  was  quickly 
signaled  as  before,  and  a  scene  similar  to  that  of  Tuesday 
ensued,  the  people  being  rather  more  violent.  The  police 
had  much  difficulty  in  guarding  Mr.  Scully  and  young  Gor- 
man, his  land-bailiff,  who  were  the  especial  objects  of  hos- 
tility. At  length  things  became  so  critical  that  the  officer 
once  again  pointed  out  the  madness  of  persevering,  and  said  he 
would  not  be  accountable  for  the  consequences.  Mr.  Scully 
said  it  was  hard  to  be  baffled  by  the  villains  a  second  time, 
but  eventually  assented.  They  decided  to  make  for  the  rail- 
way-station, as  the  nearest  shelter.  Some  of  the  police  with 
fixed  sword-bayonets  went  in  front,  others  marched  to  the 
rear  to  keep  back  the  crowd.  While  thus  with  some  difficulty 
pushing  their  way  to  safety,  they  passed  within  a  short  dis- 
tance of  a  house  owned  by  one  of  the  defiant  tenants  named 
John  Dwyer.*  The  "  temptation  "  was  too  great  for  Mr. 
Scully.  "We  will  try  this  one,"  he  said,  and  turned  into 
the  little  boreen  or  walled  avenue  leading  to  the  house.  The 
guards  followed,  some  halting  at  the  entrance  to  the  avenue 
to  repress  the  throng  at  bayonet-point.  The  hall  door  of  the 
house  was  entered  from  a  farm-yard  quadrangle,  formed  by 
out-offices.  Mr.  Scully,  Gorman,  a  bailiff  named  Maher,  and 
Sub-Constable  Morrow,  dashed  to  the  hall  door,  opened  it, 
and  entered.  At  that  instant  from  within  the  house  and 
without  the  crash  of  pistol  and  musket  shot  was  heard  in  a 
regular  volley.  Morrow  fell  outside  the  door,  shot  from  a 
loophole  in  one  of  the  flanking  buildings.  Gorman  fell  just 
inside  the  threshold,  riddled  with  bullets  fired  from  a  loft 
within,  which  commanded  the  entrance.  Mr.  Scully  and 
Maher,  both  wounded,  the  former  with  two  bullets  lodged 
in  his  neck  and  badly  hurt  from  several  others,  rushed  from 
the  house  and  sheltered  behind  the  pier  of  the  yard  gateway. 

*  The  man  of  whom  Mr.  Carbery  Scully  speaks  so  favorably  in  his 
letter  quoted  at  p.  476. 


BALLYCOHEY.  481 

Here,  halting,  Mr.  Scully,  with  his  double-barreled  breech- 
loader and  a  revolver,  commenced  a  brisk  fire  at  the  windows 
and  loopholes,  the  police  also  pouring  in  a  sharp  rifle-fire. 
At  length  Mr.  Scully  called  out,  "Who  will  enter  the  house 
with  me  ?  "  "  /  will,"  said  Head-Constable  Cleary,  and  the 
whole  force  rushed  in.  "They  are  in  that  loft,"  said  Mr. 
Scully,  and  at  the  words  a  shot  from  the  spot  indicated 
struck  Sub-Constable  Colleton.  The  step-ladder  to  the  loft 
had  been  taken  up,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  Cleary 
could  mount  to  the  place.  When  he  succeeded, — lo  !  it  was 
empty.  He  found  a  breastwork  made  with  feather  beds,  and 
behind  it  a  revolver  and  some  cartridges.  Further  search  re- 
vealed a  hole  at  the  edge  of  the  roof  recently  made,  through 
which  the  firing  party  had  retreated  to  the  garden  at  the 
rear.  The  police  next  proceeded  to  the  out-houses,  from 
which  by  this  time  the  firing  had  ceased.  Here  also  they 
found  fire-arms  and  ammunition  ;  one  blunderbuss  having 
burst  quite  close  to  the  stock.  But  as  each  house  or  barn 
had  a  rear  exit,  through  which  retreat  had  been  secured,  no 
one  was  captured.  Not  even  a  trace  by  which  suspicion 
might  be  assisted,  or  identification  secured,  could  they  find 
throughout  the  premises ! 

They  now  turned  their  attention  to  the  wounded.  Morrow 
was  quite  dead.  Gorman  was  alive,  but  senseless.  He  never 
spoke  again,  poor  fellow.  All  the  rest  could  walk,  though 
bleeding  severely.  Mr.  Scully,  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
wore  a  suit  of  chain  mail  under  his  clothes, — a  precaution 
which  saved  his  life.*  He  was  made  a  target.  When  they 
found  he  did  not  fall  though  hit  by  a  dozen  bullets  in  the 
body,  they  poured  their  fire  at  his  head,  six  shots  taking 
effect.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  visited  the  spot  immediately 

*  Two  countrymen  were  heard  discoursing  on  the  circumstance  at 
the  Cahir  railway-station  a  day  or  two  subsequently.     "  Arrah  !  how 
could  the  villain  be  killed  when  he  wore  a  helmet  on  his  stomach!  " 
was  the  exclamation  which  closed  the  discussion, 
21 


482  NEW  IRELAND. 

after,  marked  seven  bullet-holes  in  the  door  within  a  diame- 
ter of  six  inches,  just  where  Mr.  Scully  stood. 

" Let  us  hold  a  council  of  war,"  said  Mr.  Scully.  "What 
shall  we  do  ?  Let  us  at  once  make  our  way  to  the  station." 

"What!"  said  the  head  constable;  "abandon  these 
wounded  men  ?  No.  I  shall  stay  here  till  help  comes. 
You  have  your  own  guard.  Go,  if  you  will." 

According  to  the  constable's  evidence  at  the  inquest,  Mr. 
Scully  thought  this  most  absurd,  and  said,  "What  good  can 
you  do  to  a  dead  or  dying  man  ?  Come  and  protect  me." 
But  the  officer,  grieved,  disgusted,  and  angered,  as  well  he 
might  have  been,  by  the  whole  dreadful  business,  would 
have  no  more  to  do  with  Mr.  Scully  ;  would  not  abandon 
his  dead  comrade  and  the  dying  Gorman. 

The  fate  of  the  latter  was  singularly  sad.  A  friend,  resi- 
dent close  by  the  place,  writing  to  me,  says,  "  Gorman,  poor 
fellow,  knew  that  morning  that  he  was  facing  death,  but  he 
would  not  desert  '  the  master,'  for  reasons  that  did  him  all 
credit."  The  facts  were  these:  Gorman  was  the  son  of  a 
widow  holding  a  small  farm  on  one  of  Mr.  Scully's  proper- 
ties. Mr.  Scully,  finding  him  an  unusually  smart  and  intel- 
ligent lad,  sent  him  to  a  veterinary  college  in  Scotland,  had 
him  there  professionally  educated,  and  then  made  him  stew- 
ard and  estate-bailiff.  It  was  a  perilous  and  an  odious  post, 
and  the  young  man  did  not  like  it.  "  What  can  I  do  ?  "  said 
he.  "I  hate  it.  I  hate  this  dreadful  work  the  master  is 
doing  ;  but  for  me  to  leave  him  and  get  another  situation  on 
the  strength  of  the  education  he  gave  me  at  his  sole  expense, 
would  surely  be  mean ;  and,  besides,  'tis  merciless  he  would 
be  to  my  poor  mother  if  I  acted  so."  The  week  before  this 
Ballycohey  affair  he  received  several  friendly  warnings,  tell- 
ing him  not  to  rush  on  certain  destruction.  What  follows  I 
give  in  the  words  of  my  friend  : 

"  The  evening  preceding  the  battle  of  Ballycohey,  Darby 
Gorman  visited  the  village  of  Golden,  which  is  little  more 
than  a  mile  from  Scully's  residence  at  Ballenaclogh.  The 


BALLYCOHEY.  483 

country  round  Golden  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and 
fertile  in  Tipperary.  Here,  it  is  said,  the  poet  Moore  wrote 
one  or  two  of  the  most  beautiful  of  his  immortal  melodies, 
while  on  a  visit  to  his  sister,  who  was  married  to  one  of  the 
Scully  family.  Gorman,  on  the  evening  alluded  to,  met  a 
young  companion  named  O'Donnell.  They  talked  over 
Scully's  first  visit  to  Ballycohey,  and  the  letters  of  warning 
which  Gorman  had  received  in  the  interval.  His  companion 
advised  him  not  to  go  to  Ballycohey  again,  as  he  certainly 
would  be  shot.  Gorman  replied,  '  I  know  I  shall ;  but  what 
can  I  do  ?  '  '  Go  to  Cahir,'  said  his  friend,  '  and  enlist  in 
the  cavalry.  You  are  well  educated,  and  being  a  veterinary 
surgeon  you  are  sure  to  advance.'  '  If  I  turn  my  back  upon 
Scully,'  replied  Gorman,  '  what  will  become  of  my  poor 
mother  and  my  little  brothers  and  sisters  ?  I  know  he  is  a 
tyrant  and  won't  spare  them  ;  yet  he  educated  me,  and  I 
don't  like  to  desert  him.'  '  Believe  me,'  said  O'Donnell,  'I 
know  Scully  well ;  and  if  you  lose  your  life  in  his  service, 
he  will  forget  it  to  your  family.'  They  parted,  each  to  his 
home.  Gorman,  on  his  return,  was  told  by  his  mother  that 
the  master  called,  inquiring  for  him  ;  that  she  told  him  he 
had  gone  to  the  village.  She  said  Mr.  Scully  desired  her  to 
tell  him  to  be  up  early  the  next  morning,  as  they  had  to  go 
from  home  a  distance.  '  Mother,'  said  the  son,  <  I  know 
where  he  is  going  to,  and  I  don't  like  to  go.'  'Well, 
Darby,'  replied  the  mother,  'go  to  bed,  in  the  name  of 
God,  and  I'll  call  you  up  early  in  the  morning.'  The  young 
man  retired  to  his  room.  He  had  a  presentiment  it  would 
be  his  last  night  on  earth,  and  he  had  already  prepared  him- 
self for  death  by  having  received  the  sacraments  of  his 
Church.  He  spent  a  restless  night,  and  was  up  and  dressed 
at  an  early  hour.  His  mother  had  his  breakfast  in  readi- 
ness. He,  poor  fellow,  had  small  desire  for  it.  He  bade 
his  mother  good-by,  but  concealed  from  her  the  dreadful 
apprehension  that  oppressed  him.  After  leaving  the  house 
he  suddenly  returned  to  it,  and  entering  his  room  hastily 


484  NEW  IRELAND. 

wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper,  which  was  subsequently  found  on 
his  dressing-table,  'I  shall  never  return  to  this  house  alive.' 
A  few  hours  afterward  the  tragic  prophecy  was  realized, 
and  one  of  the  finest,  most  intelligent  and  impulsively  gen- 
erous young  men  in  Tipperary  was  borne  back  to  his  wid- 
owed mother  a  stark  and  bloody  corpse,  the  victim  of  a 
despot's  ruthless  will." 

The  Ballycohey  tragedy  passed  the  Irish  Land  Act  of 
1870  ;  that  is  to  say,  argument  and  sentimental  conclusion 
having  gone  before,  this  was  the  incident  which  supplied 
that  decisive  impulse  to  public  opinion  which  leads  to  ac- 
tion. Mr.  Scully's  despotism  came  at  a  critical  moment  to 
illustrate  and  exemplify  the  state  of  things  under  which  the 
agricultural  population  of  Ireland  long  had  groaned.  Every 
voice  was  raised  against  him.  His  brother  landlords  and 
magistrates,  in  meeting  assembled,  passed  a  resolution  rep- 
robating his  conduct.  The  coroner's  jury,  inquiring  into 
the  deaths  of  the  murdered  men,  added  to  their  verdict  the 
following  : 

"  The  jury  are  further  of  opinion  that  the  conduct  of  Mr.  William 
Scully  as  regards  his  proceedings  toward  his  tenantry  at  Ballycohey 
is  much  to  be  deprecated  ;  and  the  sooner  legislative  enactments  be 
passed  to  put  a  stop  to  any  such  proceedings,  the  better  for  the  peace 
and  welfare  of  the  country." 

But  Mr.  Scully  had  a  triumphant  answer  for  them  all. 
He  was  within  the  law.  He  was  but  enforcing  legally  what 
the  law  decreed !  There  was  no  gainsaying  this  :  so  even 
from  London  journals  there  came  the  important  rejoinder, 
"  Such  laws  must  be  changed."  Said  the  Saturday  Review, 
"  Landlords  are  not  a  divine  institution  any  more  than  the 
Irish  Church.  They  exist  for  Ireland,  not  Ireland  for  them  ; 
and  where  the  genius  and  circumstances  of  a  country  are  so 
widely  different  from  ours,  its  laws  and  institutions  without 
any  want  of  reason  might  well  differ  too."  The  Irish  Land 
question  was  stated  in  these  two  sentences  of  the  Saturday 


BALLYCOHET.  485 

Review.  They  covered  the  whole  case.  Such  utterances 
conveyed  not  even  "a  choleric  word"  now,  coming  from 
a  leading  London  politician,  whereas  they  were  "flat  blas- 
phemy " — "  communism,"  as  Dr.  Cooke  would  say — fifteen 
years  before,  when  spoken  by  members  of  the  Irish  Tenant 
League. 

But  a  new  and  better  England  had  arisen  since  then  ;  and 
now,  from  the  Tyne  to  the  Thames,  men  cried  out,  "  These 
things  must  no  longer  be."  It  was  announced  that,  as  the 
Irish  Church  Bill  was  the  work  of  1869,  the  Irish  Land 
Bill  would  be  the  task  for  1870. 

That  the  promised  measure  might  be  a  real  and  efficacious 
settlement  of  this  long-standing  grievance — might  sweep 
away  once  and  forever  the  cause  and  source  of  so  much 
bloodshed  and  crime,  so  much  suffering  and  wrong — was  the 
dominant  anxiety  of  every  thoughtful  mind  in  Ireland 
throughout  the  winter  of  1869.  When  the  boon  appeared  it 
sadly  disappointed  the  national  hopes  and  expectations.  It 
was  a  half-measure,  and,  like  all  half-measures  dealing  with 
gigantic  issues,  did  not  receive  even  half-justice  in  popular 
estimation,  but  was  wholly  condemned  and  sweepingly  de- 
nounced. Yet  was  it  a  great  and  wondrous  stride  in  British 
legislation  for  Ireland, — not  so  much  in  the  letter  of  its 
clauses  as  in  the  spirit  of  the  whole  enactment  and  in  the 
principles  which  it  admitted. 

The  two  great  evils  which  constituted  the  Land  grievance 
in  Ireland  (where  the  "Ulster  right"  did  not  prevail)  were 
confiscation  of  tenant  property,  and  capricious  eviction.  A 
tenant,  by  expenditure  of  his  capital  or  his  labor,  quadrupled 
the  value  of  his  land, — made  it  worth  two  pounds  an  acre 
instead  of  ten  shillings.  The  landlord  confiscated  or  appro- 
priated that  tenant's  property  either  by  raising  the  rent 
(slowly  or  suddenly)  to  two  pounds  an  acre,  or  by  forthwith 
evicting  the  tenant  and  letting  the  land  to  some  one  ready 
to  pay  forty  shillings  for  it.  Usually  the  tenant,  rather  than 
be  evicted,  agreed  to  each  rise  of  the  rent  on  his  own  outlay. 


486  NEW  IRELAND. 

That  was,  in  brief,  the  "  confiscation  "  grievance.  The  evic- 
tion or  tenure  grievance  was  this  :  that  even  where  the 
tenant  punctually  paid  his  rent,  even  where  the  highest  rent 
demanded  was  given,  even  where  the  tenant  was  industrious 
and  improving,  even  where  the  farm  had  for  hundreds  of 
years  been  the  possession  and  home  of  the  tenant's  family, 
the  landlord  could,  of  mere  caprice,  giving  no  reason  at  all, 
evict  that  tenant  and  do  what  he  liked  with  the  land.  This 
was  the  case  at  Ballycohey.  Persistently  and  irrepressibly, 
therefore,  the  Irish  tenantry  have  ever  demanded  that  the  law 
shall  put  an  end  alike  to  "  confiscation  "  and  to  "  capricious 
eviction,"  shall  prevent  the  landlord  from  levying  a  rent  on 
value  created  by  the  tenantry,  and  shall  forbid  him  from 
evicting,  unless  for  statutable  cause.  That  is  the  Irish  Land 
question  from  the  tenant's  point  of  view. 

The  landlords  say,  It  is  quite  true  some  of  our  class  raise 
their  rents  unjustly  and  extortionately,  so  as  to  reap  a  gain 
from  the  tenant's  outlay  ;  and  it  is  true  some  of  them  evict 
for  mere  caprice  or  for  political  vengeance  ;  but  if  you  pre- 
vent us  from  raising  or  lowering  our  rents  as  to  us  may 
seem  fit,  you  interfere  with  the  freedom  of  contract ;  and  if 
you  forbid  eviction,  unless  for  statutable  cause,  you  interfere 
with  the  rights  of  property,  and  make  us  mere  "rent- 
chargers." 

There  is  much  in  all  this ;  but  no  one  ever  heard  that  the 
landlords  of  Ulster  found  their  status  lowered,  their  rights 
destroyed,  or  their  property  deteriorated  by  that  "  Ulster 
custom  "  which  substantially  did  all  that  was  now  demanded. 
On  the  contrary,  landlord  property  in  Ulster  is  most  secure 
and  valuable  ;  and  the  province  blooms  like  a  garden. 

The  Gladstone  Act  of  1870  secures  undoubted  compensa- 
tion to  agricultural  tenants  for  improvements  effected  in  and 
on  the  soil,  and  admits  to  a  certain  extent  a  property  right  of 
occupancy  on  the  part  of  the  tenant.  The  first-mentioned 
portion  of  the  act  substantially  met  the  Irish  demands.  On 
the  second — the  question  of  tenure — it  made  a  bold,  and 


BALLYCOHEY.  487 

doubtless  what  its  author  wished  to  be  a  successful,  attempt 
to  stop,  or  rather  to  deter  from,  unjust  and  capricious  evic- 
tions. This  it  aimed  to  accomplish  by  a  limited  scale  of  fines 
upon  the  evicting  landlord,  to  be  paid  as  compensation  to  the 
evicted  tenant.  The  latter  part  of  the  act  has  been  a  woful 
failure.  The  limited  fines  have  been  mere  cobweb  bonds  to 
restrain  landlords  from  carrying  out  capricious  evictions 
where  so  disposed.  The  act,  however,  has  opened  a  new  era 
in  Ireland.  Evictions  of  the  old  character  and  extent  will 
henceforth  hardly  be  attempted.  Isolated  instances  of  agra- 
rian outrage  may  occasionally  appear,  but  the  dreadful 
storms  of  tenant  vengeance  and  crime  that  used  to  prevail  of 
old  will  no  more  appall  the  land. 

Not  every  tragedy  in  the  history  of  the  Irish  Land  code 
has  had  a  sequel  so  romantically  pleasing  and  happy  as  that 
of  Ballycohey.  Mr.  Scully  recovered  from  his  wounds,  and, 
merciless  as  ever,  rendered  desperate  by  what  had  occurred, 
prepared  to  exterminate  man,  woman,  and  child  of  "  the 
murderers."  The  kingdom  looked  on  heart- wrung  and  ap- 
palled ;  for  there  was  no  law  to  hold  his  hand.  The  doomed 
people  sullenly  and  hopelessly,  yet  defiantly,  awaited  the 
blow.  Heaven  sent  them  succor,  rescue,  safety.  Mr.  Charles 
Moore,  of  Mooresfort,  then  member  for  Tipperary,  appealed 
to  Mr.  Scully  not  to  convulse  the  country  anew, — besought 
him  to  spare  the  people.  "  Say  what  price  you  put  on  this 
Ballycohey  property.  /  will  pay  it  to  you,  and  let  there  be 
an  end  to  this  dreadful  episode  ! " 

Even  so  was  it  done.  Mr.  Scully  told  how  many  thou- 
sands he  would  take ;  Mr.  Moore  paid  the  money  down  ;  and 
Ballycohey  to-day  is  the  happiest  spot  in  all  the  land, — the 
home  of  peace,  security,  contentment,  prosperity.  That 
deed  of  rescue  deserves  to  be  recorded  in  letters  of  gold. 
The  people  of  Tipperary  will  never  forget  it,  Mr.  Moore 
died  soon  after ;  but  when,  in  the  general  election  of  1874, 
the  burghers  of  Clonmel  decided  to  replace  the  much- 
respected  gentleman  who  had  hitherto  represented  them  as  a 


IEELAND. 

Liberal — Mr.  Bagwell — by  a  man  more  thoroughly  reflecting 
the  national  sentiment,  they  selected  young  Arthur  Moore 
of  Mooresfort ;  much  because  he  was  a  Home  Ruler,  more 
because  he  was  his  father's  son.  He  is  named  on  the  Roll  of 
Parliament  as  representative  of  Clonmel ;  but  he  sits  as  the 
member  for  Ballycohey. 


CHAPTER    XXXL 

THE   DISESTABLISHED    CHUBCH. 

IN  1870  the  episcopalian  Protestants  of  Ireland  were  called 
upon  to  face  a  state  of  things  well  calculated  to  test  their 
devotion,  their  courage,  their  ability.  Their  Church  as  a 
State  institution  had  been  swept  away ;  and  they  had  to  ad- 
dress themselves  to  the  serious  work  of  building  up  a  new 
system.  All  eyes  were  strained  to  watch  their  movements. 
How  would  Disestablishment  affect  the  Irish  Episcopal 
Protestant  Church  ?  What  would  be  the  result  of  that 
measure  financially  ?  How  would  it  affect  the  structure  or 
ecclesiastical  organization  of  the  Church  ?  Would  it  lead 
to  doctrinal  change  or  modification  ?  Would  it  prove  in- 
jurious or  serviceable  to  Irish  Protestantism  ?  These  were 
questions  on  every  lip ;  eager  and  anxious  speculations  on 
all  sides. 

The  interval  since  1870  has  shown  the  Irish  Protestants 
engaged  in  this  great  labor,  involved  betimes  in  menacnig 
difficulties  ;  yet  it  is  fair  to  say  that  they  have  exhibited 
dignity,  resolution,  self-reliance,  and  a  reconstructive  ability 
beyond  praise.  Many  persons  imagined  the  Catholics  would 
wish  them  evil,  and  would  break  forth  into  ebullitions  of 
exultation,  or  expressions  of  derision,  when  in  the  Church 
Synod  stormy  scenes  now  and  again  marked  the  debates  on 
"Revision."  Nothing  of  the  kind  occurred.  The  Catho- 
lics of  Ireland,  on  the  whole,  rather  rejoiced  to  see  how  well 
a  body  of  Irish  gentlemen  could  legislate  on  Irish  affairs  ; 
and  I  believe  it  to  be  the  fact  that,  as  a  sort  of  Irish  Prot- 
21*  489 


490  NEW  IRELAND. 

estant-Church  Parliament,  the  Synod  was  popular  with 
most  Catholic  Irishmen. 

A  great  English  moral  philosopher — Bishop  Butler — has 
observed  that  "it  is  one  of  the  peculiar  weaknesses  of 
human  nature,  when  upon  a  comparison  of  two  things  one 
is  found  to  be  of  greater  importance  than  the  other,  to  con- 
sider this  other  as  of  scarce  any  importance  at  all."  It 
seems  to  be  only  another  view  of  this  weakness  to  say  that 
near  and  present  objects  have  a  tendency  to  obscure  objects 
that  are  distant  and  remote.  Ireland,  in  the  course  of  the 
last  three  centuries,  has  experienced  several  disestablish- 
ments and  disendowments ;  but  the  legislation  of  18G9  so 
engrosses  the  eyes  of  our  mind  that  we  fail  to  realize  the 
previous  processes,  although  some  of  them  were  every  whit 
as  sudden,  as  thorough,  and  as  revolutionary  as  the  one  car- 
ried out  in  our  own  day.  Henry  VIII. ,  Edward  VI.,  Mary, 
Elizabeth,  Cromwell,  and  Charles  II.,  all  in  some  sense,  as 
well  as  Mr.  Gladstone,  disestablished  and  disendowed  the 
State  creeds  which  they  found  existing;  and  they  all,  ex- 
cept Mr.  Gladstone,  set  up  or  restored  their  own  creed  in 
place  of  that  which  they  destroyed.  Mr.  Gladstone  differs 
from  all  the  preceding  in  this,  that  he  disestablished  the 
Church  to  which  he  belonged ;  and  a  comparison  of  his 
legislation  with  that  of  Henry  VIII.  suggests  the  further  curi- 
ous anomaly  that  when  England  was  Catholic  she  disestab- 
lished the  Catholic  Church  in  Ireland,  and  when  she  was  Prot- 
estant she  disestablished  the  Protestant  Church  in  Ireland. 

Henry's  confiscation  of  Catholic  Church  property,  which 
was  in  fact  continued  and  carried  out  by  Edward  and  Eliza- 
beth (having  been  for  a  little  resisted  by  Mary),  was  sweep- 
ing and  unsparing.  It  is  impossible  to  calculate  the  money 
value  of  the  spoliation,  the  number  of  livings  seized,  or  the 
number  of  clergy  dispossessed  by  the  Tudors  or  by  Crom- 
well ;  but  we  do  know  enough  of  the  condition  in  which 
the  clergy  were  placed  by  both  of  them  to  compare  these 
proceedings  with  Mr.  Gladstone's  measure.  We  know  from 


THE  DISESTABLISHED  CHUECH.  491 

Sir  James  Ware  that  Henry  VIII.  dissolved  over  five  hun- 
dred and  twenty  abbeys  and  monasteries,  and  that  Edward 
and  Elizabeth  handed  over,  or  intended  to  hand  over,  all 
the  Catholic  benefices  to  Protestant  pastors, — i.e.,  all  the 
benefices  that  escaped  lay  pillage  and  appropriation, — but 
how  many  those  benefices  were,  we  know  not.  "We  know, 
too,  that  Cromwell,  while  he  gave  up  the  churches  to  be 
ransacked  for  their  roofs  and  furniture,  reserved  the  Church 
lands  and  tithes  for  the  Parliament,  and  that  he  disposed  of 
them  to  "non-adventurers,"  on  short  leases,  while  he  turned 
the  clergy  adrift.  Under  his  rule  in  Ireland,  Protestant  re- 
ligious ministrations  through  the  country,  so  far  as  they 
were  supplied  at  all,  were  probably  in  the  main  supplied  by 
the  existing  Church  incumbents  who  consented  to  use  the 
Directory  instead  of  the  Prayer  Book,  and  who,  on  the  Pro- 
tector's death,  flocked  in  a  body  to  the  standard  of  the  Res- 
toration. 

We  have  abundant  information  from  the  highest  sources 
as  to  the  condition  of  ecclesiastical  affairs  from  Henry  VIII. 's 
act  to  Cromwell's  time.  "We  have  in  Protestant  historians, 
such  as  Collier,  Cox,  and  Leland ;  in  the  letters  of  lords- 
lieutenant,  governors,  archbishops,  and  judges  ;  in  the  State 
papers  published  by  the  English  and  Irish  Public  Eecord 
offices — an  unbroken  stream  of  testimony  complaining  and 
showing  that  the  condition  of  religion  was  scandalous,  and 
the  condition  of  the  clergy  deplorable.  Spenser,  the  poet, 
who  wrote  his  "View  of  the  State  of  Ireland"  about  1594, 
relates  these  things.  The  volumes  of  State  papers  of  James 
I.,  edited  with  a  preface  in  1874  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Russell  and 
Mr.  John  P.  Prendergast,  give  harrowing  statements  by 
Archbishop  Loftus  and  Bishop  Jones,  by  Judge  Saxey  and 
Sir  John  Davys,  Attorney-General.  They  tell  us  "the 
Churchmen  were  for  the  most  part  ciphers,  and  could  not 
read;"  that  they  were  "serving-men  and  horseboys,  and 
had  two  or  three  benefices  apiece;"  that  "gentlemen,  wo- 
men, and  Jesuits  had  the  benefits  of  the  benefices  ; "  that 


492  NEW  IRELAND. 

"  the  churches  were  in  ruins,  and  that  there  was  no  divine 
service,  no  christenings,  no  sacrament,  no  congregations, 
and  no  more  demonstration  of  religion  than  among  Tar- 
tars ; "  that  there  were  "  not  three  sufficient  bishops  in  all 
the  kingdom  ; "  and  that  "the  country  was  swarming  with 
Catholic  priests  who  were  maintained  by  noblemen." 

The  Irish  Convocation  itself  certified  to  Charles  I.  (1629) 
that  "In  the  whole  Christian  world  the  rural  clergy  have 
not  been  reduced  to  such  extreme  contempt  and  beggary  as 
in  this  your  Highness's  kingdom  by  means  of  the  frequent 
appropriations ;  whereby  the  subject  has  been  left  wholly 
destitute  of  all  possible  means  to  learn  piety  to  God  or  loyalty 
to  their  prince."  Such  was  the  condition  in  which  the  first 
disestablishment  left  the  Protestant  religion  and  its  clergy. 

This  state  of  affairs  continued  in  all  its  features  down  to 
1647.  In  that  year  Lord- Lieu  tenant  Ormond  surrendered 
Dublin  to  Colonel  Michael  Jones  and  the  parliamentary 
forces,  and  was  publicly  thanked  by  the  Protestants  for 
not  surrendering  them  to  their  "  natural  enemies  the  Irish 
people."  The  metropolis  was  then  crowded  with  ministers 
who  had  flocked  in  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  escape 
the  ravages  of  the  four  or  five  armies  that  were  maraud- 
ing the  land.  The  unfortunate  men  with  their  families, 
deprived  of  all  means  of  subsistence,  were  literally  fed 
by  the  weekly  allowance  of  bread  granted  them  by  Or- 
mond ;  and  they  soon  had  occasion  to  perceive  how  much 
reason  there  was  for  gratitude  to  Colonel  Jones  and  the 
Puritans.  They  petitioned  for  leave  to  continue  to  use  the 
Prayer  Book  instead  of  the  Directory,  and  were  refused  as 
' l  ill  and  unworthy  preaching  ministers ; "  they  petitioned 
for  bread,  and  were  told  that  "if  they  wanted  State  pay 
they  should  do  the  State  some  service  and  enlist."*  The 
degradation  of  the  Episcopalians  was  now  complete.  The 

*  Rev.  Dr.  Russell  and  Mr.  Prendergast's  "  Report  on  the  Carte 
Manuscripts,"  pp.  104,  105,  in  33d  Report  of  Irish  Public  Record  Office, 
1871. 


THE  DISESTABLISHED  CHURCH.  493 

churches  were  given  up  to  the  soldiery  for  wreck  and  ruin  ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  there  can  have  been  any 
ministrations  of  religion  anywhere  outside  the  cities  and 
garrison  towns.  This  state  of  religious  havoc  came  to  an 
end  with  the  fall  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  and  the  Restora- 
tion in  1G60  replaced  Church  matters  as  they  in  effect  con- 
tinued down  to  the  Whig  Church  Temporalities  Act  in  1833. 
Cromwell's  reservation  of  the  tithes  and  Church  lands,  and 
his  short  leases,  facilitated  the  restitution  of  the  endow- 
ment, which  was  abundantly  supplemented  by  the  Act  of 
Settlement  out  of  the  forfeited  lands  of  the  Catholics  ;  and 
the  State  Church  was  once  again  made  wealthy  and  lordly. 

Passing  over  the  intermediate  period  from  the  Restoration 
to  Lord  Grey's  Whig  ministry,  we  come  to  the  statistics  of 
the  first  Irish  Church  Temporalities  Act  in  1833.  Lord 
Althorp,  the  Home  Secretary,  then  informed  Parliament 
that  the  Irish  benefices  were  at  that  time  fourteen  hundred 
and  one,  four  archbishops  and  eighteen  bishops,  twenty-two 
dioceses  ;  the  net  income  of  the  prelates  £130,000  a  year, 
the  total  Church  revenue  £732,000  a  year ;  and  that  there 
were  fifty-seven  churches  in  which  no  service  had  been  per- 
formed for  three  years.  The  act,  besides  abolishing  the 
parish  cess,  suppressed  two  archbishoprics,  eight  bishoprics, 
the  unused  churches,  and  handed  over  the  amount  of  in- 
come, about  £113,000  a  year,  to  the  then  appointed  Ecclesi- 
astical Commission  for  the  supply  of  Church  requisites 
throughout  the  country.  In  1867  the  late  Lord  Derby,  who, 
as  Irish  Secretary,  helped  to  carry  the  act  of  1833,  issued  a 
commission  to  report  on  the  temporalities  of  the  Irish  Church, 
and  that  commission  reported  two  archbishops,  ten  bishops, 
thirty-two  deans,  thirty-three  archdeacons,  fifteen  hundred 
and  nine  incumbents  and  five  hundred  curates,  fifteen  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  benefices  ;  the  net  income  of  the  prelates 
£58,031,  and  the  total  income  of  the  Church  £613,984  a  year. 

So  matters  stood  with  the  Episcopal  Protestant  Church  of 
Ireland  in  1868.  When  in  the  following  year  Mr.  Glad- 


494  SEW  IRELAND. 

stone's  great  act  became  law,  the  Church  was  found  to  con- 
tain two  thousand  and  fifty-nine  annuitants,  mainly  clergy, 
together  with  a  few  laymen  connected  with  the  cathedrals  as 
vicars-choral.  To  these  annuities  to  the  amount  of  £590,892 
were  payable.  The  Church  had  also  possession  of  various 
sums  the  amount  not  easy  to  determine,  arising  out  of  pri- 
vate endowments,  together  with  the  glebes,  episcopal  palaces, 
and  churches.  By  the  act  of  Disestablishment  she  was  de- 
prived of  all  except  the  churches.  In  lieu  of  the  private  en- 
dowments a  sum  of  £500,000  was  granted  ;  while  glebes  and 
bishops'  houses  were  made  purchasable  on  certain  easy  terms 
prescribed  by  the  Act.  In  dealing  with  the  annuitants,  the 
simple  principle  was  adopted  of  paying  every  man  his  due  as 
long  as  he  lived.  In  order  to  avoid  the  long  and  tedious 
process  which  should  otherwise  have  to  be  undertaken  by 
the  Treasury,  certain  terms  of  commutation  were  offered ; 
viz.,  the  payment  of  a  capital  sum  for  each  annuitant's  case, 
— depending  on  his  age,  the  Government  offices'  rate  of  mor- 
tality and  value  of  money  three  and  a  half  per  cent.,  to 
which  was  finally  added  twelve  per  cent,  on  the  capital  sums 
thus  estimated  in  consideration  of  supposed  better  average 
life  of  clergy,  and  of  the  expenses  of  management.  On  re- 
ceipt of  these  sums,  the  clergy  consenting  to  the  extent  of 
three-fourths  of  their  number  in  each  diocese,  the  Represen- 
tative Body,  chartered  by  the  Crown,  was  to  undertake  the 
payment  of  the  annuities.  After  consideration,  the  bishops 
and  clergy — with  the  exception  of  about  a  hundred  of  their 
number — accepted  these  terms  ;  in  consequence  of  which  the 
Representative  Body  has  received  in  the  shape  of  advances 
from  the  Treasury,  through  the  Irish  Church  Temporalities 
Commission,  sums  for  commutation  of  annuities  amounting 
to  £7,563,144.  The  number  of  annuitants  was  2059  ;  an- 
nuities payable,  £590,892  ;  commutation  capital,  £7,563,144 ; 
interest  of  money,  3£  per  cent.  ;  year's  purchase,  12.8 ;  av- 
erage age,  56. 
It  will  be  seen  that  a  return  of  eight  per  cent,  on  the  com- 


THE  DISESTABLISHED  CHURCH.  495 

mutation  capital  would  pay  the  annuities.  It  was  antici- 
pated that  by  judicious  investment  four  per  cent,  could  be 
earned.  The  principle  enforced  by  those  who  led  the  move- 
ment which  ended  in  inducing  the  clergy  to  commute  for 
their  incomes,  and  take  the  Representative  Body  as  their 
paymaster  instead  of  the  Treasury,  may  be  thus  stated  :  "  If 
you  consent  to  commute,  and  if  we  can  induce  the  laity  to 
subscribe  an  annual  sum  equal  to  the  other  four  per  cent.,  we 
shall  be  able  to  save  the  capital,  to  pay  your  annuities,  and 
prevent  the  entire  burden  of  supporting  religion  from  falling 
on  our  descendants."  To  the  laity  they  addressed  the  same 
language,  saying  in  addition,  "Under  the  Act  you  are  entitled 
to  the  life-services  of  your  clergy  without  paying  them  a 
penny.  If  you  adopt  a  selfish  policy,  and  say  "  (as  some  did), 
"  '  We  will  enjoy  this  benefit ;  and  let  those  that  come  after 
take  care  of  themselves,'  a  burden  will  be  thrown  on  Irish 
Protestants  which  will  be  difficult  to  bear ;  for  the  day  must 
come  when  the  last  penny  will  have  to  be  sold  out  to  pay  the 
last  man  of  the  annuitants."  These  arguments  prevailed, 
and,  as  will  be  seen,  the  Irish  Protestant  laity  have  done 
their  duty  manfully  by  their  Church.  * 

When  the  act  was  framed  it  was  foreseen  that  there  would 
be  a  considerable  reduction  in  the  number  of  the  clergy,  and 
accordingly  all  the  annuitants  were  enabled  to  enter  into 
terms  with  the  Representative  Body  by  which  their  services 
might  be  dispensed  with,  and  in  consideration  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  capital  sum  corresponding  to  their  annuities 
would  go  to  the  Representative  Body  for  Church  purposes. 
Under  this  authority  a  Table  of  Compositions  was  framed, 
on  the  principle  that  an  annuitant  of  thirty-five  years  of  age 
should  get  one-third,  one  of  sixty-five  and  upward  two- 
thirds,  of  his  commutation  capital ;  the  sum  increasing  by 
one-ninetieth  for  each  year  of  age  between  these  limits,  and 
going  down  by  a  ninetieth  for  ages  below  thirty-five.  Under 

*  The  great  defaulters  were  the  absentee  Protestant  land  proprietors. 


496  NEW  IRELAND. 

this  table  a  considerable  number  of  the  annuitants  com- 
pounded ;  as  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  between  com- 
pounders  and  deaths  during  the  seven  years  from  1870  to 
1877  the  number  of  annuitants  has  been  reduced  to  one 
thousand  and  fifty-two.  By  the  operation  of  composition 
there  was  of  course  a  large  reduction  in  the  commutation 
capital,  a  corresponding  reduction  in  annuities  payable,  and 
a  large  Composition  Balance  acquired  for  Church  purposes, 
amounting  at  present  to  about  £1,300,000. 

At  first  it  was  intended  to  administer  the  whole  finance 
of  the  Church  from  one  center  in  Dublin  ;  but  on  better 
reflection  a  kind  of  "Home  Rule"  or  "Federal  plan"  has 
been  adopted.  Each  diocese  manages  its  own  affairs,  subject 
to  certain  general  principles,  under  the  control  of  the  Repre- 
sentative Body,  which  meets  once  a  month  in  Dublin.  This 
body  consists  of  forty-eight  elected  and  twelve  co-opted  mem- 
bers. Election  and  co-option  take  place  every  year ;  but 
members  once  elected  or  co-opted  hold  their  places  for  three 
years.  All  money  collected  under  these  schemes  is  sent  up 
to  headquarters,  and  paid  out  again  as  stipends  (under  war- 
rants drawn  on  the  Bank  of  Ireland)  to  the  proper  parties, 
as  directed  by  the  several  diocesan  councils.  During  the  last 
seven  years  the  laity  have  contributed  in  this  way  £1,610,703, 
of  which  £37,500  was  received  from  England.  In  addition 
to  this  must  be  counted  all  the  sums  expended  in  each  local- 
ity by  the  select  vestries  of  each  parish  for  care  of  churches. 
Estimating  this  at  the  moderate  sum  of  eighty  pounds  each 
for  twelve  hundred  and  forty-three  parishes,  the  present  num- 
ber, this  would  represent  a  further  contribution  of  £596,640  ; 
so  that  in  all  the  laity  have  contributed  within  the  last  seven 
years  £2,207,343, — &  fact  which  deserves  to  be  widely  known 
to  the  credit  of  the  Protestants  of  Ireland.  The  operation 
of  these  "Diocesan  schemes"  consists  mainly  in  forming  a 
"Stipend  Fund  "for  future  purposes.  Several  "unions" 
of  parishes  have  been  effected  for  economy,  but  very  few  if 
any  have  been  suppressed. 


TEE  DISESTABLISHED  CHURCH.  497 

Many  and  wide  were  the  speculations  as  to  how  Disestab- 
lishment would  affect  the  doctrine  and  rubrics  of  the  Irish 
Protestant  Church.  Although  legislatively  united  in  1800, 
and  declared  to  be  "one  and  indivisible,"  the  English  and 
Irish  Churches  were  never,  since  1640,  identical  in  the  nature 
and  spirit  of  their  Protestantism.  The  former  was  on  the 
whole  Lutheran  or  High  Church  ;  the  latter  was  on  the 
whole  Calvinist  or  Low  Church.  In  England  the  Kestora- 
tion  almost  effaced  the  characteristics  of  Puritan  Protestant- 
ism. In  Ireland  that  event  made  little  change,  and  Irish 
Protestantism  visibly  retains  to  this  day  the  imprint  it  re- 
ceived at  the  Cromwellian  period.  Legislative  regulation 
created  a  uniformity  between  the  two  bodies  sure  to  be  mod- 
ified on  such  an  opportunity  as  that  presented  by  Disestab- 
lishment. For  the  last  four  or  five  years  the  Church  Synod 
in  Dublin  has  been  engaged  in  the  critical  and  serious  pur- 
pose of  revision.  To  any  one  who  could  regard  with  levity 
the  labors  of  earnest  and  conscientious  men  engaged  in  such 
a  work,  the  debates,  often  angry  and  stormy,  sometimes  truly 
comical  in  their  episodes,  would  afford  great  scope  for  sarcasm. 
An  extreme  party  seemed  plainly  bent  on  "revising"  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer  into  a  blank,  and  reforming  the  reforma- 
tion in  the  most  sweeping  manner.  The  episcopal  office 
and  clerical  character  seemed  to  them  remaining  relics  of 
antique  Eomanism.  The  supernatural  in  sacramental  sub- 
jects they  appeared  to  regard  as  merely  superstitious.  Sev- 
eral times  did  a  secession  seem  inevitable.  More  than  once 
did  Dr.  Trench  in  mournful  tone  point  out  the  logical  ten- 
dency of  some  of  the  changes  proposed.  Nevertheless  it  may 
be  said  that  the  middle  party  has  carried  its  way,  and  mod- 
erated everything.  The  three  principal  questions  discussed 
have  been  (1)  the  damnatory  clauses  of  the  Athanasian 
Creed  ;  (2)  the  baptismal  service  ("  seeing  that  this  child  is 
now  regenerate")  ;  and  (3)  the  Ordinal, — the  words  "Ke- 
ceive  the  Holy  Ghost  for  the  office  and  work  of  a  priest  in 
the  Church  of  God."  The  last  two  were  left  untouched, 


498  NEW  IEELAND. 

after  much  discussion.  As  to  the  first,  it  was  in  one  year's 
Synod  carried  that  the  damnatory  clauses  should  be  al- 
together omitted,  as  forming  no  part  of  the  articles  of  belief. 
Ultimately  the  Creed  was  left  untouched  in  its  place,  but  the 
mandatory  rubric  requiring  it  to  be  read  thirteen  times  in 
the  year  in  the  public  service  was  removed. 

The  episcopal  Protestant  Church  of  Ireland  has  lost  noth- 
ing, and  has  gained  much,  especially  in  its  freedom  of  ac- 
tion, by  Disestablishment.  Yet  what  a  revolution,  what  a 
change  from  the  Old  Ireland  to  the  New,  does  this  one  event 
alone  bring  to  our  view  !  There  is  no  conviction  deeper  or 
stronger  in  the  English  mind  to-day  than  was  the  conviction 
forty  years  ago — nay,  twenty  years  ago — that  England  would 
spend  her  last  shilling  and  fire  her  last  gun  in  maintaining 
the  State  connection  and  ascendency  of  the  Protestant 
Church  in  Ireland.  What  overthrow  of  the  empire  was  not 
such  a  frightful  event  as  Disestablishment  supposed  to  in- 
volve !  It  has  come  to  pass,  and,  lo  !  the  empire  stands  ! 


CHAPTEK    XXXII. 

IBELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER. 

THE  Kerry  election  fulfilled  in  its  effects  the  anticipa- 
tions of  English  and  Irish  public  opinion.  It  was  accepted 
on  all  hands  as  a  decisive  event.  Every  one  realized,  that  it 
marked  an  important  turning-point  in  Irish  politics,  that  an 
entirely  new  era  was  at  hand. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  the  Home  Government  Asso- 
ciation— which  had  always  declared  itself  to  be  merely  the 
precursor  of  a  really  authoritative  national  body — to  sum- 
mon the  country  as  it  were  into  council,  and  let  Ireland  dis- 
cuss and  formulate  the  national  programme.  Hitherto  the 
members  of  that  organization  were  only  a  party,  pushing 
their  propaganda  so  far  no  doubt  with  overwhelming  success. 
But  there  were  other  parties  in  the  country.  There  were 
the  old  Repeal  party,  the  Liberal  party,  the  Land  party,  the 
Catholic  Education  party, — the  latter  supposed  to  include 
most  of  the  bishops ;  and  above  all  there  was  the  Fenian 
party,  broken,  disrupted,  and  weakened,  but  not  destroyed. 
None  of  them  had  the  mandate  of  the  country  authorizing  it 
to  lead  the  way. 

In  the  autumn  of  1873  the  Council  of  the  Home  Govern- 
ment Association  decided  to  co-operate  in  calling  a  great 
National  Conference  to  consider  the  question  of  Home  Rule. 
There  was  hesitation  and  debate  for  some  time  as  to  whether 
it  should  be  convened  by  an  "open"  requisition — that  is, 
one  expressing  no  opinion  on  the  subject  or  scheme  to  be 
considered — or  by  one  which  would  in  itself  be  a  National 
Declaration.  I  was  among  those  who  favored  the  former 

499 


500  NEW  IRELAND. 

view  ;  but  Mr.  Butt,  who  was  on  the  other  side,  prevailed. 
He  argued  with  much  force  that  no  matter  what  pains  might 
be  taken  to  render  the  Conference  an  influential  and  repre- 
sentative assembly,  the  English  press  might  still  say  its 
utterance  was  only  the  decision  of  some  three  or  four  hun- 
dred individuals  ;  whereas  a  National  Requisition  signed  by 
ten  thousand  persons  of  position  and  influence,  affirming  the 
Home  Rule  scheme,  would  in  itself  be  a  great  authority. 
In  October,  1873,  accordingly,  a  requisition  was  circulated 
through  the  post  to  members  of  corporations,  town  commis- 
sioners, and  other  popularly  elected  representatives,  magis- 
trates, clergymen,  members  of  Parliament,  etc.,  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms : 

"  We,  the  undersigned,  feel  bound  to  declare  our  conviction  that  it  is 
necessary  to  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  Ireland,  and  would  be  con- 
ducive to  the  strength  and  stability  of  the  United  Kingdom,  that  the 
right  of  domestic  legislation  on  all  Irish  affairs  should  be  restored  to 
our  country  ;  and  that  it  is  desirable  that  Irishmen  should  unite  to 
obtain  that  restoration  upon  the  following  principles." 

The  principles  of  the  Home  Government  Association,  as 
given  in  a  previous  chapter,  were  then  set  forth,  and  the 
Requisition  concluded  in  these  words  : 

"  We  hereby  invite  a  Conference  to  be  held,  at  such  time  and  place 
as  may  be  found  generally  most  convenient,  of  all  those  favorable  to 
the  above  principles,  to  consider  the  best  and  most  expedient  means  of 
carrying  them  into  practical  effect." 

The  desire  being  not  to  obtain  so  much  a  long  list  of  un- 
known names  as  the  signatures  of  representative  persons,  or 
men  in  whatsoever  position  known  to  command  either  social 
or  popular  influence,  the  document  was  not  left  at  public 
places,  or  indiscriminately  circulated.  Nevertheless,  in  a  few 
weeks  it  had  received  the  signatures  not  of  merely  ten  thou- 
sand such  persons,  as  was  hoped  for,  but  twenty-five  thou- 
sand. Every  class  and  creed,  every  profession,  every  repre- 
sentative body,  was  represented  in  that  vast  array.  As  Mr. 


IRELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER.  5Q1 

Butt  anticipated,  it  was  very  generally  felt  that  such  a 
Declaration  was  in  itself  a  national  authorization. 

On  Tuesday,  the  18th  of  November,  1873,  and  on  the 
three  next  succeeding  days,  the  Conference  assembled  in  the 
great  circular  hall  of  the  Rotunda, — a  place  of  meeting  se- 
lected not  merely  because  of  its  size,  but  for  its  historic  as- 
sociations. There  it  was  that  the  celebrated  convention  of 
the  Irish  volunteers,  under  the  Earl  of  Charlemont,  held 
their  deliberations  in  1783.  For  nearly  a  century  that  hall 
had  been  the  scene  of  the  most  striking  and  important  po- 
litical displays.  There  was  not  an  orator  or  patriot  whose 
name  survives  in  the  history  of  the  past  century  whose  voice 
had  not  echoed  within  those  walls.  Nearly  nine  hundred 
delegates  or  members,  gathered  from  every  county  in  the 
kingdom,  attended  on  this  occasion  ;  and  the  galleries  thrown 
open  to  the  public,  capable  of  accommodating  six  hundred 
persons,  were  crowded  throughout  the  four  days'  session  with 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  many  of  whom  had  come  long  dis- 
tances in  order  to  be  present. 

With  one  voice  the  presidency  of  this  important  assembly 
was  conferred  on  Mr.  William  Shaw,  M.P.,  a  Protestant 
gentleman  of  high  character,  a  banker  and  leading  merchant 
in  Cork  city.  There  was  much  curiosity  as  to  what  the  tone 
and  temper  of  the  proceedings  would  be.  Some  of  the  lead- 
ing Liberal  organs  in  London  told  their  readers  all  about  it 
two  days  before  the  chair  was  taken.  There  would  be  "a 
Donnybrook  row  in  the  first  hour  of  the  sitting."  The  Con- 
ference certainly  was  not  what  is  called  "a  Quaker's  meet- 
ing ; "  there  was  free  and  active  discussion ;  every  point 
under  consideration  was  canvassed  closely.  But  the  British 
Parliament  in  its  best  days  was  never  more  orderly,  with  a 
really  important  national  subject  under  debate,  from  first  to 
last.  Throughout  the  four  days  no  division  was  challenged 
on  any  resolution  but  one,  and  against  that  a  solitary  voice 
was  raised.  With  scarcely  an  alteration,  the  principles  and 
programme  of  the  Home  Government  Association  were  af- 


502  NEW  IRELAND. 

firmed  by  national  authority,  and,  that  organization  there- 
upon being  dissolved,  a  new  one,  "The  Irish  Home  Kule 
League,"  was  established  to  take  charge  of  the  national 
movement.  By  the  early  part  of  December  this  body  was 
organized.  The  Christmas  holidays  were  now  close  at 
hand ;  it  was  necessary  to  postpone  for  a  few  weeks  the  com- 
mencement of  active  operations,  but  it  was  decided  to  open 
the  new  year  with  a  vigorous  registry  campaign  all  over  the 
kingdom.  By  the  middle  of  January,  1874,  a  series  of  re- 
ports on  the  condition  of  the  several  constituencies  were 
forthcoming.  From  these  it  was  clear  that  by  attention  to 
the  registries  in  the  ensuing  summer  and  autumn,  seventy- 
two  Home  Kule  members  out  of  one  hundred  and  three 
Irish  representatives  might  certainly  be  returned  at  the  next 
general  election.  That  the  session  about  to  open  in  Feb- 
ruary would  be  the  last  of  the  existing  Parliament,  that 
there  would  be  a  dissolution  in  the  autumn,  was  accepted 
as  a  certainty.  The  only  fear  which  now  troubled  the 
League  was  that  the  elections  might  be  taken  in  the  early 
summer,  before  the  next  revision  of  the  parliamentary  voters' 
lists.  In  this  case  the  opportunity  would  be  half  lost ;  not 
more  than  thirty  seats,  it  was  thought,  could  be  carried.  A 
stunning  surprise  was  about  to  burst  upon  us  all ! 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  24th  of  January,  1874,  the 
announcement  was  flashed  throughout  the  kingdom  that 
Mr.  Gladstone  had  "dissolved."  Not  a  whisper  of  such  a 
determination  on  his  part  had  been  heard  even  the  previous 
day.  It  was  only  after  midnight  that  a  favored  few  learned 
the  astonishing  fact  by  telegraph.  The  coup  was  so  sudden 
that  it  staggered  every  one,  friend  and  foe.  To  us  of  the 
Home  Kule  League  it  brought  something  like  dismay.  Here 
we  were,  caught  at  utter  disadvantage, — no  registries  com- 
pleted, no  constituencies  organized,  no  candidates  selected. 
Yet  never  did  men  encounter  so  sudden  and  serious  an 
emergency  more  resolutely  than  the  council  of  the  League 
faced  this  trial.  They  "stripped  to  the  work,"  and  may 


IRELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER.  503 

be  said  to  have  set  en  permanence  from  two  o'clock  on 
Sunday,  the  25th  of  January,  till  Saturday,  the  14th  of 
February.  They  issued  an  "Address  to  the  People  of  Ire- 
land," telling  them  that  under  the  circumstances  of  this 
surprise  every  constituency  must  only  fight  its  own  battle, 
and  let  a  grand  enthusiasm  compensate  for  want  of  prepara- 
tion. It  was  a  furious  combat.  One  formidable  difficulty 
soon  embarrassed  the  Home  Kulers, — a  want  of  suitable  can- 
didates. The  League  Council  had  set  out  with  refusing  to 
supply  or  "recommend"  any,  preferring  to  let  each  locality 
select  for  itself.  This  idea,  however,  had  to  be  abandoned. 
From  north,  south,  east,  and  west  came  the  importunate 
appeal,  "  Send  us  a  candidate."  "  Candidates  !  candidates  ! " 
was  the  cry.  "  Here  is  our  county  going  adrift  for  want  of 
a  candidate  !"  "Is  our  borough  to  be  lost  in  this  way  for 
want  of  a  candidate  ?  Send  us  any  one  who  is  a  Home 
Ruler  ! "  Anything  like  choice  as  to  ability  had  to  be  given 
up  as  hopeless,  the  only  qualification  required  being  honesty 
of  adherence  to  Home  Eule.  Nothing  could  better  ex- 
emplify the  temper  of  the  Irish  constituencies — the  inex- 
orable determination  to  grasp  a  candidate  of  some  sort,  or 
any  sort,  who  would  declare  for  Home  Eule — than  what  oc- 
curred in  "Waterford  County.  That  constituency  was  over- 
whelmingly Home  Rule,  yet  in  the  utter  want  of  candidates 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  allow  the  late  members,  Lord 
Charles  Beresford,  Conservative,  and  Sir  John  Esmonde, 
Liberal,  to  be  re-elected  unopposed.  The  people  were  in- 
dignant. An  unknown  London  "carpet-bagger,"  whose 
name  has  escaped  my  memory,  ran  across  one  day  from 
Paddington  and  issued  bright-green  placards  announcing 
himself  effusively  as  a  candidate  in  favor  of  Home  Rule. 
He  was  hailed  with  rapture.  The  League  denounced  his 
candidature,  and  issued  an  address  beseeching  the  electors 
not  to  be  fooled  by  so  offensive  and  barefaced  a  trick. 
Neither  Lord  Charles  Beresford  nor  Sir  John  Esmonde  was 
a  Home  Ruler,  but  they  were  both  honorable  men  in  public 


504  NEW  IRELAND. 

life.  There  was  a  friendly  regard  for  Lord  Charles  as  brother 
of  the  Marquis  of  Waterford.  Sir  John  Esmonde  was  by 
marriage  the  representative  of  Henry  Grattan's  family, 
which  counted  for  much  with  Irishmen.  To  reject  either 
of  these  gentlemen  for  a  Man  in  the  Moon  "Home  Ruler" 
from  London  Bridge  would  have  been  monstrous.  Every 
exertion  was  accordingly  used  by  the  League  leaders  to  ex- 
pose the  transaction.  However,  the  clever  Cockney  polled 
several  hundred  votes  as  a  "Home  Kuler." 

It  was  a  serious  reflection  how  far  men  returned  in  such 
haste  and  at  such  hap-hazard  as  this  would  be  found  to  sup- 
ply the  elements  requisite  for  the  formation  of  a  really  influ- 
ential and  effective  parliamentary  party.  How  many  of  them 
would  be  half-hearted  men,  Liberals  who  hoisted  Home  Rule 
to  secure  re-election  ?  How  many  of  them  would  be  extreme 
men,  who  would  tire  of  a  Fabian  policy  and  soon  cry  out  that 
moderation  and  constitutionalism  had  failed  ?  How  many  of 
them  would  exhibit  a  fatal  complaisance  lest  they  might  be 
thought  "extreme"  ?  How  many  would  lack  the  intelli- 
gence or  the  manly  courage  to  adopt  a  moderate  course,  lest 
it  might  be  thought  "  unpopular  "  ?  Would  a  party  so  re- 
turned exhibit  unity,  cohesion,  strength,  or  would  they 
prove  to  be  "a  heap  of  uncemented  sand"  ?  These  were 
pressing  anxieties  in  many  a  breast  throughout  that  time. 

At  length  the  desperate  struggle  was  over ;  the  last  return 
was  made,  and  men,  drawing  breath,  looked  around  to  see 
how  the  day  had  gone.  A  great  shout  went  up  from  Ireland. 
"  Victory  !  Victory  ! "  was  the  cry  from  end  to  end  of  the 
land.  For  the  first  time,  under  the  shield  of  the  ballot,  a 
national  representation  freely  elected  by  the  people  had  been 
returned ;  and  for  the  first  time  since  the  overthrow  of  the 
Irish  Parliament  in  1800  a  clear  and  strong  majority  of  the 
national  representation  were  arrayed  in  solemn  league  and 
covenant  to  restore  it.  None  were  more  astonished  than  the 
Home  Rule  leaders  at  the  extent  of  their  success.  Under 
the  disadvantages  of  "the  Gladstone  surprise,"  they  had 


IRELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER.  505 

hoped  to  return  between  thirty  and  forty  men.  They  had 
carried  about  sixty  seats.*  In  the  previous  Parliament  there 
sat  for  Irish  constituencies  fifty-five  Liberals,  thirty-eight 
Conservatives,  and  ten  Home  Eulers.  The  new  elections  re- 
turned twelve  Liberals,  thirty-one  Conservatives,  and  sixty 
Home  Rulers.  Ulster  sent  two  Home  Eulers  and  five  Lib- 
erals for  seats  previously  held  by  Conservatives.  The  two 
Ulster  Home  Rulers  were  returned  by  Cavan  County.  The 
prosperous  capital  of  Northern  Protestantism,  Belfast,  fur- 
nished one  of  these  gentlemen,  Mr.  Joseph  Gillis  Biggar,  late 
chairman  of  the  Belfast  Water  Commissioners.  The  other, 
Mr.  Charles  Joseph  Fay,  belonged  to  an  old  and  influential 
Catholic  family  in  the  county.  The  successful  Liberals  in 
the  same  province  were  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford,  returned  for 
the  county  Down,— son  of  that  Mr.  William  Sharman  Craw- 
ford, M.P.,  referred  to  in  a  previous  chapter  as  the  veteran 
leader  of  the  Protestant  Tenant-Right  party ;  Mr.  Taylor 
for  Coleraine ;  Mr.  Dickson,  who  came  in  for  historic  Dun- 
gannon, — both  of  these  gentlemen  being  large  manufacturers 
in  the  North ;  Mr.  Hugh  Law,  Q.C.,  and  Mr.  Richard 
Smyth,  for  Derry  County.  Mr.  Law  held  an  eminent 
position  at  the  bar,  and  was  Solicitor-General  for  Ireland. 
Mr.  Smyth  was  a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  had  been  Moder- 
ator of  the  General  Assembly  a  few  years  previously,  and 
was  just  then  Professor  of  Oriental  Languages  in  the  Pres- 
byterian College  of  Derry.  Of  the  Irish  Home  Rulers, 
eleven  were  Protestants,  and  forty-eight  Catholics ;  of  the 
Liberals,  nine  were  Protestants,  three  Catholics ;  all  the  Con- 
servatives were  Protestants.  It  may  be  doubted  that  any 

*  They  suffered  but  two  defeats.  In  Monaghan  County  Mr.  John 
Madden  of  Hilton  Park,  Conservative  Home  Ruler,  failed  to  obtain 
election  ;  and  in  Tralee  borough  The  O'Donoghue,  as  an  anti-Home 
Rule  Liberal,  defeated  Mr.  Daly,  Mayor  of  Cork,  the  Home  Rule  can- 
didate, by  three  votes.  I  believe  the  majority  of  votes  actually  given 
was  against  The  O'Donoghue  ;  but  through  informality  in  marking 
some  of  the  ballot  papers  he  was  "counted  in"  by  three  votes. 
22 


506  NEW  IRELAND. 

constituency  in  Ireland  made  a  greater  sacrifice  in  demon- 
stration of  its  Home  Kule  convictions  than  the  town  of 
Drogheda.  Its  representation  was  sought  by  Mr.  Benjamin 
Whitworth,  a  Protestant  Liberal  gentleman.  He  was  a 
leading  merchant  in  Manchester,  but  was  connected  with 
Drogheda  by  family,  by  birth,  and  by  the  ties  of  numerous 
benefits  conferred  on  the  town  as  an  employer  and  a  citizen. 
Mr.  Whitworth  would  be  strongly  in  favor  of  Home  Rule  if 
he  were  sure  it  did  not  involve  separation.  He  feared  it  did, 
and  so  he  would  not  declare  for  the  one  question  now  su- 
preme in  the  popular  estimation.  The  disappointment,  the 
regret,  of  the  Drogheda  people  was  something  astonishing. 
There  was  not  a  man  in  the  universe  they  would  rather  elect 
"if  he  would  but  say  the  word."  Had  Mr.  Whitworth  been 
like  too  many  politicians,  he  might  easily  have  managed  the 
difficulty  by  a  slippery  or  ambiguous  phrase ;  but  he  was  too 
honest  for  that.  The  constituency  on  their  part  were  too 
regardful  of  duty  and  principle  to  give  way.  A  deputation 
went  up  to  the  League  for  a  "  candidate,"  and  roundly  swore 
they  would  not  leave  Dublin  without  one.  With  some  diffi- 
culty they  found  a  gentleman  who  consented  to  stand,  and 
they  placed  him  at  the  head  of  the  poll. 

I  think  I  may  say  the  next  most  striking  exemplification 
of  the  intensity  of  the  popular  feeling  was  displayed  in  my 
own  election  by  the  county  of  Louth,  for  which  I  was  re- 
turned by  a  majority  of  two  to  one  over  the  Right  Hon. 
Chichester  Fortescue,  now  Lord  Carlingford.  Mr.  Fortescue 
was  one  of  the  leaders  and  chiefs  of  the  Liberal  party.  He 
was  a  man  of  recognized  ability,  and  filled  a  prominent 
place  not  only  in  Irish  but  imperial  politics.  He  was  a  Cab- 
inet minister  in  the  Gladstone  administration  at  the  time  of 
this  contest,  and,  as  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland,  virtually 
governed  the  country.  For  no  less  than  twenty-seven  years 
consecutively  he  had  represented  Louth.  He  was  brother  of 
Lord  Clermont,  one  of  the  most  extensive  land-owners,  one 
of  the  best  and  the  kindliest,  in  the  county.  Personally  no 


IRELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER.  50? 

man  had  a  higher  position  or  stronger  claims.  But  he  had 
passed  the  severest  Coercion  Bill  ever  imposed  upon  Ireland, 
and  was  of  course  opposed  to  Home  Rule.  The  Louth  con- 
test was  naturally  considered  one  of  the  most  important  in 
the  whole  campaign.  Its  result,  the  defeat  of  such  a  man 
as  Mr.  Fortescue,  created  a  profound  sensation. 

While  Home  Rule  was  placed  first  and  beyond  all  public 
measures  or  subjects,  there  were  three  others,  which  went  to 
make  up  what  may  be  called  the  national  platform  at  this 
election  :  Amendment  of  the  Gladstone  Land  Act ;  Denomi- 
national Education  ;  and  an  Amnesty  for  the  Political  Pris- 
oners. These  three  questions  commanded  the  individual 
support  of  the  Home  Rule  members  in  nearly  every  case. 

It  was  singular  to  note  how  largely  Irish  Protestantism 
had  on  this  occasion,  as  so  often  before,  furnished  leaders  to 
the  national  movement.  The  Home  Rule  Chief,  par  excel- 
lence, was  Isaac  Butt,  and  beside  him  there  were  Sir  John 
Martin,  Mitchell-Henry,  William  Shaw,  and  Sir  John  Gray, 
— all  Protestants.  Equally  remarkable  was  the  fact  that 
the  most  Catholic,  or,  as  it  would  be  said,  "Ultramontane," 
constituencies  elected  Protestant  Home  Rulers.  Those  who 
believe  that  Irish  Catholics  import  religious  exclusiveness 
into  politics,  or  doubt  that  Protestant  lord  and  Catholic 
peasant  might  mingle  in  community  of  feeling  as  Irishmen, 
should  see  Lord  Francis  Conyngham  in  the  midst  of  the 
"frieze  coats"  of  Clare,  the  object  of  loyal  confidence, 
hearty  affection,  and  personal  devotion. 

The  dissolution  of  1874  was  a  disastrous  coup  for  the  great 
leader  of  English  Liberalism.  It  resulted  in  the  overthrow 
of  his  party.  The  new  Parliament  opened  with  a  Conserva- 
tive ministry  not  only  in  office  but  in  power.  Mr.  Disraeli 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  de- 
voted followers ;  while  not  more  than  about  two  hundred 
and  forty  stood  beneath  the  banner  of  the  late  Premier.  As 
to  the  remaining  sixty,  a  state  of  things  previously  unknown 
was  about  to  present  itself.  Immediately  on  the  conclusion 


608  NEW  IRELAND. 

of  the  elections,  the  Irish  Home  Rule  members  assembled 
in  the  council-chamber  of  the  City  Hall,  Dublin,  and  after 
deliberation  earnest  and  prolonged  adopted  resolutions  con- 
stituting themselves  "  a  separate  and  distinct  party  in  the 
House  of  Commons."  In  truth  it  was  upon  this  under- 
standing, express  or  implied,  they  were  one  and  all  returned. 
They  forthwith  proceeded  to  make  the  requisite  arrange- 
ments to  such  an  end.  Nine  of  their  body  were  elected  to 
act  as  an  executive  council.  Secretaries  and  "whips"  were 
duly  appointed.  Motions  and  measures  were  agreed  upon 
for  introduction.  Thus  constituted,  marshaled,  and  organ- 
ized, the  Irish  Home  Rulers  took  their  seats  in  the  imperial 
Parliament. 

Serious  and  difficult  was  the  work  those  men  had  entered 
on.  It  had  been  no  light  and  easy  task  to  bring  the  Irish 
millions  anew  to  give  their  confidence  to  constitutional  en- 
deavors. The  resorts  of  physical  force  they  did  not  indeed 
believe  in,  else  the  Fenian  enterprise  had  been  more  formid- 
able ;  but  not  a  great  deal  more  brightly  had  they  at  first 
regarded  the  prospects  of  parliamentary  action.  Behind 
that  Home  Rule  party  at  Westminster  stood  those  millions, 
hoping,  doubting,  fearing;  eagerly  and  narrowly  watching 
every  move ;  ready  to  reciprocate  conciliation,  but  danger- 
ously quick  to  resent  hostility.  The  bulk  of  the  nation  was 
fairly  willing  to  try  out  a  reasonably  patient,  persevering 
policy,  but  there  was  a  section  who  hoped  nothing  from  Par- 
liament, and  who  would  rejoice  to  find  the  English  mem- 
bers voting  down  everything  with  an  undiscriminating 
"No!"  The  Home  Rule  leaders  knew  the  nature  of  the 
elements  they  had  to  deal  with,  and  were  fully  aware  that 
events  might  throw  the  game  into  the  hands  of  the  more 
extreme  and  impatient  section  of  their  people.  They  de- 
cided to  offer  a  bridge  to  the  opposing  forces  of  Irish  demand 
and  English  refusal.  Apart  from  the  question  of  Home 
Rule,  which  they  knew  Avould  require  much  time,  they  re- 
solved to  lay  before  the  House  of  Commons  several  schemes 


IRELAND  AT  WESTMINSTER.  509 

of  practical  legislation,  the  merits  of  which  could  hardly  be 
contested,  and  the  success  of  which  might  fairly  be  expected. 
The  concessions  of  these  would,  on  the  one  hand,  lead  the 
English  people  gradually  to  look  into  the  nature  of  Irish 
claims,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  lead  the  Irish  people  to  place 
more  confidence  in  constitutional  effort.  It  was  probably 
the  best  and  wisest  policy  such  a  party  could  devise.  "  You 
will  gain  nothing  by  it,"  said  some  among  them;  "you 
will  accomplish  nothing  by  this  moderation.  You  will  be 
blindly  voted  down  all  the  same.  It  is  a  policy  of  combat 
you  should  set  yourselves  to  pursue."  "We  shall  try  that  if 
we  must,  but  not  if  we  can  avoid  it,"  answered  the  Home 
Rule  chiefs. 

Amid  such  circumstances,  beset  by  such  difficulties,  in- 
spired by  such  hopes,  facing  so  grave  a  problem,  the  Irish 
Home  Rule  party  pushed  forward  from  1874  to  1877,  the 
exponents  of  a  new  policy,  the  representatives  of  a  New  Ire- 
land at  Westminster. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

LOSS  AND   GAIN. 

Iff  that  well-known  and  once  seditious  ballad  "The  Wear- 
ing of  the  Green,"  an  anxious  query  is  pressed  as  to  how  it 
fares  with  Ireland : 

"  And  how  does  she  stand  ?  " 

So  may  we,  ere  we  close  the  record  and  quit  our  theme,  ask, 
How  stands  Ireland  in  1877  ?  In  what  is  she  most  changed  ? 
What  is  the  loss  or  gain  between  the  old  time  and  the  new  ? 

Although,  contrasted  with  the  development  of  nations  in 
the  long  enjoyment  of  healthy  life,  the  progress  of  Ireland — 
material  and  intellectual,  social,  industrial,  educational,  and 
political — may  be  found  sadly  slow,  and  in  some  respects 
cruelly  retarded,  yet,  compared  with  her  own  dismal  historic 
standards,  she  has  made  great  strides  within  the  present  gen- 
eration. The  really  important  fact  is,  that  with  the  little 
she  has  gained  she  has  done  more,  and  bids  fair  to  accom- 
plish relatively  greater  things,  than  any  nation  of  them  all. 

Serious  and  heavy  are  the  material  losses  to  be  weighed  in 
taking  a  balance  and  estimating  gains  upon  this  period.  The 
country  that  has  lost  in  thirty  years  one-third  of  its  popula- 
tion— a  million  by  famine,  and  two  millions  by  despairing 
flight — must  have  received  a  well-nigh  mortal  wound.  No 
glozing  fallacies,  no  heartless  theories,  have  availed  to  stamp 
upon  the  Irish  Famine  and  Exodus  any  character  less  dark 
than  that  of  utter  calamity.  Yet  Ireland  has  survived  the 
blow.  Economically  and  industrially  its  weakening  effects 
will  long  be  visible ;  but  the  vitality  of  the  nation  has  tri- 

510 


LOSS  AND  QATN.  511 

umphantly  asserted  itself.  Despite  all  disaster  and  difficulty, 
Ireland  is  marching  on. 

It  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at  accurate  conclusions  as  to  the 
extent  of  Ireland's  material  progress  between  1845  and  1875. 
The  necessary  records  were  not  in  existence,  or  were  very 
defective,  thirty  years  ago  ;  and  some  of  the  tests  and  com- 
parisons frequently  applied  are  most  fallacious.  That  pro- 
gress depends  almost  entirely  on  agriculture,  manufacturing 
industry  being  still  but  little  known.  For  some  years  past 
many  signs  attest  that  the  agricultural  classes  in  Ireland 
have  made  considerable  advance,  and  a  decided  increase  in 
the  national  wealth  has  been  thus  acquired.  But  hardly  any 
one  seems  to  notice  the  important  fact  that  this  has  risen  less 
from  extension  of  earning  power,  or  of  productive  area,  than 
from  a  rise  in  the  price  of  certain  agricultural  products.  A 
considerable  increase  in  the  price  of  coal  a  few  years  ago 
brought  extravagantly  "good  times"  to  the  colliers  and 
mine-owners  while  it  lasted,  though  the  out-put  was  no 
greater  than  before.  If  nothing  occur  to  send  back  the  prices 
of  beef  and  mutton,  milk  and  butter,  eggs  and  poultry,  Ire- 
land will  have  established  a  substantial  gain  in  material 
prosperity.  But  this  present  glow  of  "good  prices"  is  too 
commonly  confounded  with  the  solid  increase  of  wealth  that 
results  from  increased  productiveness.  It  is  in  great  part  per- 
ilously adventitious.  There  are,  however,  numerous  indica- 
tions that  the  respite  from  hardship,  the  comparative  com- 
fort, which  the  farming  classes  have  thus  experienced  has 
been  turned  by  them  to  great  account.  These  few  years  of 
better  circumstances,  together  with  the  influence  of  certain 
other  changes,  educational  and  political,  in  the  country,  have 
had  a  startling  effect  on  the  agricultural  population.  Never 
again,  without  such  straggle  as  may  astonish  the  kingdom, 
will  they  submit  to  the  serfdom  and  destitution  of  old 
times. 

The  educational  progress  and  attainments  of  Ireland  within 
the  past  thirty  years  will  bear  no  comparison  with  what  has 


512  NEW  IRELAND. 

been  accomplished  in  Belgium,  America,  Germany,  France, 
Scotland,  England,  or  Switzerland.  But  the  effect  and 
influence  on  Ireland  of  the  measure  of  educational  gain 
achieved  within  that  period  has  been  incalculable.  It  has, 
as  I  have  already  said,  revolutionized  the  country.  The 
educational  facilities  and  opportunities  within  the  reach  of 
the  Irish  people  are  still — especially  as  regards  intermediate 
and  university  education — "miserably  bad,  scandalously 
bad."  The  Government  holds  to  its  determination  to  force 
on  the  Irish  millions  a  scheme  admittedly  out  of  accord  with 
their  conscientious  convictions ;  and  thus  the  precious  aid 
which  popular  sympathy  and  national  enthusiasm  would 
bring  is  utterly  lost  to  our  primary-school  system.  As  to 
university  and  intermediate  education  in  Ireland,  the  condi- 
tion of  affairs  is  a  reproach  to  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is 
truly  lamentable  that  in  such  a  matter  as  education  the 
policy  of  force  majeure  should  still  be  pursued  toward  a 
people  to  whom  such  a  huge  arrear  of  educational  restitu- 
tion is  due.  This  is  hardly  the  way  to  make  a  requital  to 
Ireland  for  a  century  of  laws  that  hunted  down  the  school- 
master and  put  a  price  upon  his  head. 

One  of  the  best  and  brightest  changes  visible  in  Ireland  is 
the  almost  total  disappearance  of  sectarian  animosities,  and 
the  kindly  mingling  of  creeds  and  classes  in  the  duties  of 
every-day  life.  Even  still,  no  doubt,  in  one  particular  corner 
of  the  island,  there  linger  traces  of  the  old  and  evil  spirit 
beneath  whose  accursed  influence  man  spilled  the  blood  of 
his  fellow-man  in  the  outraged  name  of  Religion.  But  even 
in  Ulster  these  insensate  feuds  are  steadily  giving  way.  Such 
passions  do  not  suddenly  subside.  Long  after  better  and 
nobler  feelings  have  gained  the  mastery,  the  fitful  spasms  of 
expiring  fanaticism  will  occasionally  present  their  ghastly 
spectacle ;  but  the  end  is  none  the  less  inevitably  at  hand. 
In  Deny  city  the  annual  displays  that  formerly  involved 
periodical  wreck  and  bloodshed  have  for  the  past  five  or 
six  years,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  been  celebrated  amidst 


LOSS  AND  GAIN.  513 

declarations  and  demonstrations  of  mutual  tolerance  and 
good  feeling.  In  Belfast  and  one  or  two  of  the  neighboring 
towns  no  such  happy  result  has  as  yet  been  safely  assured ; 
but  in  these  places  the  local  leaders  on  each  side  have  many 
difficulties  to  contend  with.  Every  party  and  faction  has 
its  camp-followers  and  irregulars,  who,  amenable  to  no  dis- 
cipline, often  stain  by  their  excesses,  and  compromise  by 
their  assaults,  the  cause  which  they  pretend  to  serve.  Every 
season  it  becomes  more  and  more  plain  that  Ulster  Orange- 
men and  Ulster  Catholics  are  equally  desirous  of  terminating 
a  state  of  things  which  was  the  scandal  of  Ireland  and  the 
reproach  of  Christianity. 

Elsewhere,  throughout  the  remaining  provinces  of  the 
kingdom,  concord,  tolerance,  and  kindly  feeling  largely 
prevail.  The  coincidence  whereby  the  lines  of  religious 
demarcation  correspond,  as  a  general  rule,  with  the  political 
in  Ireland — Protestant  being  generally  synonymous  with 
Conservative,  and  Catholic  with  Liberal — is  very  unfortu- 
nate ;  for  often  a  conflict  seems  to  be  sectarian  when,  in  fact, 
it  is  only  political.  On  the  whole,  the  painfully  sharp  dis- 
tinctions and  classifications  of  old  times  have  softened  down  ; 
and  the  different  social  classes  and  religious  denominations 
no  longer  resemble  so  many  warring  tribes  encamped  upon 
the  land. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  domain  of  politics  that  the  most 
serious  changes  are  to  be  noted  in  Ireland.  The  gravity 
and  importance  of  those  changes  will  be  recognized  only 
when  they  are  studied  in  the  twofold  aspect  of  their  effect 
on  Ireland  herself,  and  their  effect  on  England. 

There  never  was  a  period  until  now,  since  the  passing  of 
the  Union,  in  which  the  Irish  representation  was  not  amen- 
able to  the  influences,  and  more  or  less  subject  to  the  author- 
ity, of  the  governing  parties,  Liberal  or  Conservative, — the 
ministerial  or  ex-ministerial  chiefs, — in  London.  Had  it 
been  otherwise,  many  a  time  it  might  have  been  a  serious 
peril  for  England  to  have  had  a  hundred  and  five  Irishmen 
22* 


514  NEW  IRELAND. 

with  their  hands  on  the  lever  of  imperial  affairs  at  West- 
minster. As  it  was,  they  were  merely  so  many  imperial 
Whigs  and  Tories,  whose  action  in  the  main  was  directed 
and  controlled  by  the  Melbournes  or  Lyndhursts,  Eussells 
or  Peels,  Stanleys  or  Aberdeens,  of  the  hour.  If  the  con- 
tinuance or  discontinuance  of  such  a  system  now  lay  wholly 
or  mainly  in  the  choice  of  the  representatives  themselves, 
its  abandonment  during  a  year  or  two  might  be  a  matter  of 
little  moment,  as  a  merely  temporary  variation.  But  a 
change,  a  radical  change,  has  been  brought  about  under 
very  critical  circumstances. 

It  is  only  within  the  past  thirty  or  forty  years  that  in 
Ireland  the  bulk  of  the  people,  long  kept  outside  the  pale  of 
the  constitution,  may  be  said  to  have  actively  entered  public 
life.  That  is  to  say,  the  political  influence  of  Ireland,  such 
as  it  was,  even  so  recently  as  thirty  years  ago,  was  exercised 
in  their  name  and  on  their  behalf,  not  by  the  people  them- 
selves. Ten  years  ago  the  franchise  was  placed  practically 
within  their  reach,  yet  its  use  was  then,  to  them,  too  full 
of  deadly  peril  to  make  the  possession  a  boon.  Five  years 
ago,  however,  came  a  measure  which,  as  if  by  the  flash  of  a 
magician's  wand,  has  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  Irish 
politics.  The  ballot  has  brought,  for  the  first  time,  the  in- 
fluence and  the  will  of  the  Irish  people  directly  to  bear  on 
the  assembly  at  Westminster.  With  a  marvelous  rapidity 
they  have  realized  the  great  agencies  now  within  their  con- 
trol. With  rather  sudden  energy  they  have  cast  aside  the 
tutelage  of  former  days.  The  political  power  of  Ireland 
has  passed  for  aye  from  the  custody  of  leaders,  managers, 
and  proxy-holders,  in  the  sense  in  which  they  held  it  and 
used  it  of  old.  The  statesmen  who  have  to  deal  with  the 
Ireland  of  to-day  will  find  that  they  are  face  to  face  with 
new  elements,  new  forms,  and  forces,  social,  economic,  and 
political. 

It  becomes  of  the  first  importance  to  appreciate  the  temper 
and  tendency,  the  bent  and  purpose,  of  those  millions  whom 


LOSS  AND  GAIN.  515 

the  School,  the  Newspaper,  the  Franchise,  and  the  Ballot 
have  made  masters  of  the  situation  in  Ireland.  Equally 
necessary  is  it  to  take  into  view  the  one  hundred  and  seventy 
thousand  Irish  voters  in  the  cities  and  towns  of  Britain,  daily 
preparing  themselves  for  more  complete  and  resolute  co- 
operation with  the  efforts  of  their  countrymen  at  home.  As 
long  as  the  working  classes  of  England  were  unenfranchised, 
these  vast  hodies  of  Celtic  material  accumulated  between  the 
Tay  and  the  Thames  were  of  little  account.  But  as  every 
day  the  influence  of  those  classes  increased — as  the  franchise 
is  extended,  and  school  board,  poor-law,  municipal,  and  par- 
liamentary elections  admit  the  masses  of  the  people  to  the 
exercise  of  public  power — the  men  whom  Irish  landlordism 
swept  in  thousands  from  their  native  valleys  in  the  western 
island  will  as  a  consequence  be  heard  from.  They  are  placed 
in  all  the  great  centers  of  public  opinion  and  political  activ- 
ity ;  and  some  of  the  most  momentous  issues  of  the  near 
future  will  be  largely  determined,  one  way  or  another,  by 
their  aid.  Not  in  a  year,  nor  in  two  years,  will  they  be  able 
to  constitute  or  organize  themselves,  and  exhibit  perfect  dis- 
cipline and  trained  intelligence ;  but  all  this  is  plainly  ahead, 
— is  merely  a  matter  of  time.  No  graver  anxiety  can  weigh 
the  mind  of  a  patriotic  Irishman  contemplating  these  things 
than  that  which  surrounds  the  question  as  to  how,  and  in 
what  temper,  the  Irish  people  at  home  and  in  England  may 
use  the  powers  within  their  reach.  Here  and  there,  we  may 
be  sure,  some  errors  of  impulse,  unreason,  or  passion  will 
occasionally  be  seen  ;  and  that  impatience  of  result  so  char- 
acteristic of  our  race — greatly  but  not  wholly  reformed  of 
late — will  betimes  break  forth.  Above  all,  it  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that,  like  the  party  of  Kossuth  sullenly  watching 
the  endeavors  of  Francis  Deak  ten  years  ago  in  Hungary, 
there  are  men  in  Ireland,  in  America,  and  in  England — few, 
but  not  less  determined,  some  of  them  more  desperate  than 
ever — who  hope  in  the  break-down  of  public  effort  to  have 
another  chance  for  the  resorts  of  violence.  But  there  are 


516  NEW  IRELAND. 

abundant  proofs  that  the  great  body  of  the  Irish  people,  in 
sober  but  resolute  purpose,  are  determined  to  work  out  their 
national  policy  by  the  agencies  of  public  opinion  and  the 
weapons  of  political  power.  And  assuredly  no  happier  cir- 
cumstance has  cheered  the  outlook  of  Irish  politics  in  our 
century  than  the  daily  increasing  exchange  of  sympathies, 
and  the  more  loudly  avowed  sentiments  of  reconciliation 
and  friendship,  between  the  peoples  of  Ireland  and  of  Great 
Britain. 

What  the  vail  of  the  future  may  hide  is  not  given  to  man 
to  know.  Enough  for  us  that  in  skies  long  darkened  and 
torn  by  cloud  and  storm  thrice-blessed  signs  of  peace  and 
hope  appear.  The  future  is  with  God. 


COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


LOOKING  BACK 

The  Scenes  of  Early  Life  revisited. . . 

Beara  and  the  O'Sullivans 

The  rural  Irishman — Truth  and  Cari- 
cature   

The  unpictured  Fishermen  of  Monster 


An  Irish  Pilot  "  boxing  the  Compass  "  10 

'•Mass  on  the  Ocean  " 11 

Torry  Island  and  its  Fisherman  King.  12 

Virtue  on  Torry  Island 13 

"  How  many  gods  are  there,  my  good 

boy!" 13 


and  Connaught 10    Famine  and  the  Fishermen 14 


CHAPTER  II. 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD." 15 

The  Parochial  Letter-writer 15 

Carious  Specimens  of  Epistolary  Cor- 
respondence   16-17 

The  little  Courtesies  of  Life  not  Ser- 
vility       17 


The  Penal  Laws  against  Catholic  Edu- 
cation     18 

The  Irish  National  School  System..  20-29 

Vere  Foster 23 

School  "  No. «  " 25 


CHAPTER  HI. 


O'CONNELL  AKD  REPEAL 

"  The  Liberator  "  one  of  the  Master 
Characters  in  History 

His  Unpopularity  with  Irish  Protes- 
tants  

The  old  Tory  Gentleman's  "Thanks 
be  to  God  ! " 

Glances  at  "Repeal"  and  "Emanci- 
pation " 83 

Views  and  Reviews  of  O'Connell's 
Character 

The  "Discoverers"  and  "Priest- 
hunters" 


O'Connell's  Foes  and  Friends 40 

O'Gorman  Mahon 40 

The  Irish  Priest  in  Politics 41-44 

O'Connell's  Ra»h  Promise 44 

The  call  for  a  Monster  Meeting,  and 

O'Connell's  Arrest 45 

An  Historic  Trial 45 

1846  a  Transition  Period  in  Irish  Pol- 
itics   46 

The  "  Young  Ireland  Party  " 47 

Gaunt  Famine,  and  the  Last  Hours  of 

the  Great  Tribune 48 

517 


518  COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDER ACT 49 

The  Origin  of  Irish  Secret  Societies, 

and  the  object  of  Ribbonism 49 

Some  of. the  "  Gripe  and  Passwords" 

of  Ribbonism 57 

Sir  John  Gray  and  the  Mob 58 

Blackmailing  and  Bloody  Work 59 


Lord  Lorton  and  his  Protestant  Ten- 
ants   60 

A  Lordly  Scoundrel 62 

Hanged  "for  Breaking  the  Hasp  of  a 
door  " 63 

Madden,  the  Tithe  Proctor,  and  his 
Awful  Fate 63 

The  Decline  of  Ribbonism.. . .  . .    64 


CHAPTER  V. 


FATHER  MATHEW 66 

Early  Years  of  the  "Apostle  of  Tem- 
perance " 66 

Not  the  Originator  of  the  Temperance 

Movement 67 

"  Bill  Martin  "  and  Father  Mathew. .  69 

A  Great  Work  begins  in  Cork TO 

The««r«£  of  Father  Mathew's  Succesp  72 
"Orange   and    Green"  greeting  the 

famous  Priest ....  . .  73 


Father  Mathew  in  England 73 

The  Temperance  Crusade  at  its  top- 
most height  in  1845 75 

Shadows 77 

Father  Mathew  and  the  Famine 78 

The  Last  Days  of  a  bright  and  beau- 
tiful Life 78 

A  Sad  Reaction.  ..  ..79 


CHAPTER  VI. 


1  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN  " 

A  Cause  of  bitter  Recrimination 

Famine  casts  its  shadows  over  the 

"Green  Isle  " 

How  "  a  Million  of  Lives  might  have 


been  saved  " 86    Some  Results  of  the  Irish  Famine... 


The  "  Public  Soup  Kitchens  " 86 

The  Workhouses 86 

The  Irish  Landlords  and  the  Famine..  88 

Hunger  and  Heroism 91 

American  Generosity 92 


CHAPTER  VH. 


"  YOUNG  IRELAND  "  .................    95 

What  it  was  ................   ........    95 

The  Irish  Representative  of  Forty 

Years  ago  .......................    96 

An  Evening  Stroll  that  originated  The 

Nation  ...........................    97 

"Young  Ireland  "  and  Religious  Tol- 

erance ...................  •.  .......    98 


Glances  at  the  Leaders  of  the  Party..  100 


Eva  Mary  Kelly—  a  Union  of  Poetry 
and  Romance  ....................  101 

"Mary's"  Slid  Fate  ..................  103 

"  Speranzn  "  and  her  Bright  Career.  .  103 
Mr.  Duffy's  Interview  with    "John 
Fanshaw  Ellis"  .................  106 

I  am  the  Culprit,  if  Crime  it  be  "...  107 


William  Smith  O'Brien . 
Differences   between  the  "Young" 
and  the  "  Old  "  Irelanders. . . 


107 


no 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


"  FORTY-EIGHT" 112 

The  year  of  Revolutions 112 


What  John  Mitchel  declared 


114 


Sketch  of  John  Mitchel 115 

Smith   O'Brien's   Fight   against  the 


Reds 


..  118 


His  Opponents 1141  The  Three  Parties 118 


COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


519 


Great  Influence  of  the  Priests 119 

Arrest  of  O'Brien,  Meagber,  and  Hit- 

chel 119 

The  Scene  at  Mitchel's  Trial 120 


Suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  123 

An  Historic  Incident 123 

The  Collapse 124 

The  Fute  of  the  Leaders 125 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AFTER-SCENES 126 

A  Ballet  that  struck  the  future  Fenian 

Chief 126 

Hunted  over  Moor  and  Mountain 126 

Escape  of  Stephens  and  Doheny 129 

"  Hue-and-Cry  "  descriptions  of  Insur- 
gents   129 

Fidelity  that  gold  could  not  corrupt..  130 
Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  Leyue,  and 

O'Donohne 130 

Dillon  and  P.  J.  Smyth 132 


"All  right;  I'm  Smyth" 133 

"  Hi*  Reverence  "  and  the  two  lovers.  133 
"  His  Reverence  "  utters  a  thundering 

Oath,  and  again  becomes  Dillon..  133 
Richard  O" Gorman,  father  and  son.. .  134 

John  O'Mahouy 134 

The  State  Trials  for  High  Treason ....  135 
A  "  Secret  and  Confidential "  Letter  to 

General  Napier 136 

To  the  Convict  Settlements  of  Aus- 
tralia   188 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN 140 

Three  Gibbets  in  1848 140 

A  Heart-rending  Scene 142 

Tipperary  in  1848. 143 


"Cut"    Quinlan    and    his    brother 

Michael 147 

Father  Mullaly  and  "  Cut " 148 

The  "  Philosophy  "  of  Landlord  shoot- 
Ing 158 


CHAPTER  XL 


"  LOCHABEB  NO  MORE  " 157 

The  Irish  Landlords  and  Evictions.. .  157 
"  Seven  hundred  human  beings  home- 
less in  one  day  " 161 

House-leveling,  Ruin,  and  Desolation.  163 


The  Emigrant's  Sad  Farewell 165 

Scenes  of  Death  on  Land  and  Ocean . .  167 
The  Irish  Exodus  stands  alone  In  His- 
tory   168 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THZ  ENCTOIBERID  ESTATES  ACT —  178 
"The  last  of  his  Nama  in  Mitchels- 

town  " 173 

Mitchelstown  Castle  and  its  beautiful 

Surroundings 174 


A  Scheme  of  English  Avarice 180 

Passage  of  the  Bill  through  Parlia- 
ment   181 

The  Story  of  Lord  Gort 183 

Facts  and  Figures 187 


The  blow  that  fell  on  Lord  Kingston.  176  j  The  Old  Masters  and  the  New. 
The  Difficulties  of  Irish  Landlords.. . .  179  1 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  TENANT  LKAGTTI 191 

AMoral  Revolt 191 

Ulster  and  its  Privileges 191 

The  Philosophy  of  Rural  Stagnation . .  193 
Historic  glances  at  the  Land  Laws ...  194 
Catholic  and  Pregbyterian  meet  to- 


gether. 


196 


The  "  Irish  Liberal  "  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century  ago  ......................  201 

Bigoted  England  and  the  Pope  .......  203 


The  "  Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill  " 
The  General  Election  of  1852 


204 
208 


520 


COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


"THE  BRASS  BAND"  SOS 

John  Sadleir  and  his  Early  Career. . . .  208 
Judge  Keogh  as  simple  "  Mr.  William 

Keogh" 210 

"  The  Pope's  Brass  Band  "  and  "  The 

Irish  Brigade  " 211 

The   Catholic   Meeting   at    the   Ro- 
tunda   211 

Keogh's   Euloginm    on    Archbishop 
MacHale,  and  some  other  things.  213 


MacCarthy  Downing  and  "So-help- 

me-God  "  Keogh 214 

Sadleir's  Newspaper  Scheme 216 

Cardinal  Cullen 217 

"  Is  Paul  in  bed  f " 219 

The  New  Election 220 

Meeting  of  the  forty  Irish  M.P.'s  in 

Dublin 221 

The  Sale  of  "  the  Irish  Brigade  " 222 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER  224 

John  Sadleir  and  his  Daring  Schemes.  224 

The  Weekly  Telegraph,  holds  forth 224 

Thunder  in  the  Political  Sky 225 

"The   Lion  of  the  Fold  of  Judah" 

ppeaks 225 

Religion  and  Politics 226 

The  Friction  of  Opinions  227 

Opposition  to  Dr.  Cnllen 229 

A  Memorial  to  Rome 230 


The  Tide  that  bore  Mr.  Sadleir  to  the 

Port  of  Ruin 232 

Charles  Gavan  Duffy  bid*  Farewell  to 

Ireland 234 

Gloom 235 

The  Irish  Forger  of  Hyde  Park 235 

The  last  Awful  Steps  to  Suicide 238 

Sad  Scenes  about  the  Doors  of  Irish 

Banks 239 

The  Suicide's  Sad  Letter 239 

A  Dead  Scoundrel  and  a  Living  Knave  240 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  ARBTTTHNOT  ABDUCTION  . 


241 


"A  Landlord  shot,  as  sure  as  we  live  "  241 
Rathronan  House  and  its  Fair  Inmates  242 
A  Foolish  Lover,  and  what  he  did ....  243 
The  Struggles  of  a  Noble  Girl '248 


Exciting  Chase  after  a  Ruffian  249 


The  Trial  of  John  Garden . 


...  251 


Pen-picture  of   a  Bold  and  Reckless 
Landlord  and  Lunatic  Lover 256 


CHAPTER  XVH. 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY  ..........  258 


Days  of  Peace  and  Sad  Silence 
A  Split  that  was  never  closed 
Smith  O'Brien  liberated....  . 


O'Donovan  Rossa  and  the  Mysterious 

"Stranger" 263 

The  Rise  of  Fenianism 264 

The  Trial  of  Daniel  O'Sullivan 267 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


PAPAL  IRELAND.; 270 

The  Catholics  of  Catholics 370 

"  Help !    Help  !     the    Anstrians    are 


upon 


Marshal  MacMahon 272 

The  Schemes  of  Cavonr  and  Napoleon 


III. 


275 


Pio  Nono's  Friends  in  Ireland 276 

Garibaldi  &  Co 280 

The  "  Battalion  of  St.  Patrick  " 286 

English  Journalistic  Blackguardism..  284 

"Home,  Sweet  Home" S84 

A  Liberal,  Warm-hearted,  Religious 


COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER  XIX. 


521 


THE  FATE  or  GLENVEIGH 

Glances  at  old  Donegal 

Mr.  Adair  as  a  New  Landlord. 
A  Scene  in  1858.... 


293 


The  Murdered  Manager 

Mr.  Adair  as  a  rural  Nero  in  1861 . 

Woeful  Eviction  Scenes 

Across  two  Oceans    . . 


294 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  FEKIAN  MOVEMENT 305  i  The  "  Hue  and  Cry  Black  List " 313 

A  New  State  of  Things...   305  !  The  "  Art "  of  Assassination 814 

James  Stephens  Criticised 306  :  Quotations  from  a  "  Fire-Eater." 815 

Bird's-Eye  View  of  the  Home  Fenian          The  London  Times  Aiding  Irish  Revo- 

Leadera 307          lution! 316 

Plan  of  the  Movement 310    A  Singular  Petition  that  was  never 

John  O'Mahony  and  the  Origin  of  the  Answered 318 

Word  "  Fenian  " 310  '  The  Irish  in  the  American  Civil  War.. .  321 

Irish  Journals  and  the  Fenian  Leaders.  311    An  Exciting  and  Imposing  Funeral ...  822 
Why  the   Catholic   Church    opposes 

Oath-bound  Societies 812 

CHAPTER  XXL 

A  TROLLED  TIMS 325  A  New  Meeting  and  how  it  Worked..  S81 

Irish  Leaders  again 336  Close  of  the  American  Conflict  and 

The  Irish  People 327  the  Activity  of  Fenianism 335 

John  Martin  and  the  Fenians 328  A  Letter  that  did  not  reach  its  Des- 

A  Stormy  Meeting 329          tinathm 836 

CHAPTER  XXH. 

THE  RICHXOJTD  ESCAPE 338  ]  Arrest  of  Stephens  &  Co 346 

The  Irish  People  Suppressed 338    Bold  Words  followed  by  a  Bolder  Es- 

A  Letter  of  the  Fenian  Chief  read  in  cape 350 

Dublin  Castle  839    Richmond  Jail-ite  Guards  and  In- 

Dash  on  the  Fenians  840  mates 851 

"What  is  this?" 342    The  Bird  that    Flew,   and  where  it 

All  Ireland  Excited 344          Flew 854 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INSURRECTION!! 355  Stephens  as  a  Revolutionist 859 

The  Leaders  at  the  Bar 355  The  "Rising  "in  Ireland 360 

O'Donovan  Rossa  reading  for  "  Eight  The  Jacknell  and  her  Strange  Freight.  368 

Hours  and  a  half  " 356  A  Citizen  of  the  United  States  Sen- 
Dissension  and  Revolt  split  np  Fen-  tenced  to  fifteen  years  Penal  Ser- 

ianism....  ...357          vitude 871 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND  THE  CELL 

A  Wild  and  Stupid  Explosion 373 

The  New  Leader  of  Fenian  Affairs  in 
Ireland ...  874 


373  I  The  Trial  of  Allen,  Larkin,  O'Brien, 

and  others 378 

Scenes  at  the  Scaffold  381 

The  Great  Heart  of  Ireland  Moved. ..  383 


A  Dec  perate  Resolve 


375 


The  Anger  and  Panic  of  Manchester. .  377 


John  Bullism  in  the  "  Green  Isle".. . .  384 


522  COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 


•DELENDA  EST  CARTHAGO" 392 

The  "  Religion  "  of  Taxes 392 

The  Irish  Protestant  Minister 394 

The  Great  Problems  of  Irish  Politics.  395 

Dillon,  Daunt,  and  Gray 398 

Orangeman  and  Fenian  to  the  Front !  399 


John  Bright'e  Letter 401 

Parliamentary  Agitation 402 

John  Bright  in  Ireland 404 

English  Parliamentary  Confusion .. . .  407 
The  odious  "  Catholic  Oaths  " 407 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


DlSESTA 


411 


The  thickness  of  some  English  Skulls.  411 

The  ranting  of  Mr.  Roebuck 412 

"  What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  f " 413 


Gladstone  crossing  the  Rubicon 414 

The  Antics  of  the  Ulster  Orangemen..  416 
The  Struggle  over  an  Expiring  Relig- 
ious Sham 418 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

LONGFORD 429  I  A  Prisoner  as  an  elected  M.P.  for  Tip- 
Changes  in  the  Irish  Protestant  Mind.  429          perary 432 

I  The  Martin-Nugent  exciting  Contest. .  434 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


"HOME  RULE  " 444 

A  Strange  Assemblage  in  Dublin.  ...  444 

41  What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  ?" 446 

Isaac  Butt 448 

The  Birth  of  the  Home  Rule  Move- 
ment..., ...  450 


Its  Object  and  Principles 451 

Mitchell  Henry 455 

P.J.Smyth 455 

The  Struggle  at  the  Polls 456 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


460 


460 


THE  KERRY  ELECTIOK 
Trinity  College  in  Irish  History 
Professor  Galbraith,  T.C.D  ...........  460 

In  Kerry  .............................  461 


John  Francis  Maguire  468 

Election  Scenes  to  be  witnessed  no 
more 464 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


BAIXYCOHEY 475 

An  Alarming  Telegram 475 

A  Bit  of  Family  History 476 

"Billy"  Scully 477 


A  Landlord  and  his  Loaded  Revolver.  479 
A  Brutal  Attack,  and  what  came  of  it.  481 
Poor  Young  Gorman  and  his  Mother.  482 
"  These  tilings  must  no  longer  be  I "..  484 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


THE  DISESTABLISHED  CHTTRCH 
The  Changes  of  Time  in  Ireland 


489  I  A  Church  with  an  Enormous  Revenne.  493 

490  |  Reforming  the  Reformation  ..........  497 


COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER  XXXII. 


523 


IRELAND  AT  WESTHINBTEB 


499 


Parties  in  Ireland  ....................  499 


A  Clever  Cockney 504 


Victory!"  "Victory!1 


The  Circular  of  1873  ..................  500    The  Coup  of  1874  ... 


505 
507 


Another  Meeting  at  the  Rotunda  .....  501    The   Home  Rule   Party's  Work  for 
The  Home  Rulers  at  Work  ............  502  |        Three  Years  ......................  508 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


Loss  AND  QAIN 610 

How  Stands  Ireland  in  1877? 610 

Education  and  Fanaticism— Glances  at 
Each....  ...  611 


Great  Political  Changes 513 

Unsettled  Problems  and  the  Future. .  614 


THE     HEIGHT 


ABSURDITY. 


JOHNNY  DOTT— '•  No,  they  wouldn't  take  me  in   the  Irish  Guards  ; 
the  man  who   measured  me  said  I  was  nine-foot-four  or  four- 

t       foot-nine— I  disremember  which  -and  that  I  had  the  finest  chest 
it.  the  Arm£,  only  it  was  turned  upside  down." 


A     000  029  446     2 


